-i^ 


DELIVERANCE 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK    •    BOSTON  •    CHICAGO  •    DALLAS 
ATLANTA  •    SAN   FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  Limited 

LONDON  •  BOMBAY  •  CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  Ltd. 

TORONTO 


DELIVERANCE 


THE   FREEING  OF  THE   SPIRIT  IN  THE 
ANCIENT  WORLD 


BY 
HENRY   OSBORN   TAYLOR,    Litt.D. 


Liberth  va  cercando 


» .»  J » 


THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 
1915 

A//  rights  reserved 


Copyright,  iqis. 
By  the  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 

Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published  January,  1915. 


J.  S.  Cushing  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


IN    MEMORIAM 

SAMUEL   ISHAM 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2008  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/deliverancefreeiOOtaylrich 


CONTENTS 

PAGB 

Prologue    i 

CHAPTER 

I.      CHALDiEA   AND    EgYPT 6 

II.    China:  Duty  and  Detachment   ....  14 

III.  The  Indian  Annihilation  of  Individuality       .  46 

IV.  Zarathushtra 68 

V.    The  Prophets  of  Israel 75 

VI.    The  Heroic  Adjustment  in  Greek  Poetry       .  121 

VII.    Greek  Philosophers 150 

VIII.    Intermediaries 180 

IX.    Jesus 207 

X.    Paul 218 

XI.    Augustine 238 

XII.    The  Arrows  are  beyond  Thee   ,       ,       ,       .  276 


DELIVERANCE 


PROLOGUE 

WE  have  Homer's  word  for  it,  that  not  all 
dreams  are  from  Zeus.  No  truly !  Dreams 
are  as  foolish  as  the  gibbering  of  souls  in  Orcus  — 
till  they,  souls  or  dreams,  have  drunk  the  blood  of 
waking.  But  a  wise  country  lies  before  the  gates 
of  sleep,  and  vistas  of  insight  come  to  them  who 
are  waiting  there.  Very  different  from  dreams, 
these  wakeful  watches  of  the  night,  when  thought, 
disentangled  from  the  day's  variety,  is  sponta- 
neous and  limpid. 

Recently  with  me  such  waking  hours  have 
been  made  peaceful  by  thought  of  freedom  from 
anxiety  over  the  ways  of  men,  even  by  thought  of  that 
final  peace  or  freed  activity,  which  is  death.  But 
however  fruitful  or  fruitless  these  "  night  thoughts," 
there  surely  follows  the  disturbing  yet  wholesome 
correction  of  the  forenoon's  intending  of  the  mind. 
For  be  sure,  O  possible  gentle  reader,  that  I  sub- 
ject to  the  sober  verification  of  the  day  whatever 
in  the  watches  of  the  night  came  as  happy  in- 
tuition. 

Often     turning     back     through     my     scattered 


2 '    '  bfeLlVt'j^ANCE 

knowledge  of  the  past,  I  see  that  these  thoughts 
of  mine  are  old,  and  that  they  have  done  duty  in 
the  minds  of  men  before  me.  One  finds  them 
harnessed  in  the  systems  of  those  Great  Ones, 
those  apparent  sources  of  the  world's  convictions, 
who  in  their  time  set  in  new-found  relationships, 
and  made  living,  the  disjecta  membra  of  human 
experience  and  casual  reflection.  Yet  the  thoughts 
may  be  ours  as  well  as  theirs,  by  virtue  of  the  very 
same  title  of  having  them  flash  joyfully  upon  the 
mind. 

One  realises  a  universal  kinship  in  human  need 
and  aspiration  when  following  such  thoughts 
seemingly  afar  in  the  minds  of  these  Founders 
who  have  passed  on.  They  who  may  have  died 
ages  ago  are  nearer  to  us  than  the  alien  masses 
among  whom  we  move.  They  are  the  spiritual 
fathers  of  us  all,  and  we  make  ourselves  con- 
sciously their  sons  by  coming  to  know  them  in 
their  achieved  or  striven  for  adjustment  of  them- 
selves with  the  eternal,  and  in  their  attunement 
of  their  desires  to  human  limitations.  Some  men 
live  in  the  eternities,  and  must  at  their  peril  keep 
in  tune  with  them.  The  need  of  adjustment 
belongs  to  them  peculiarly.  Yet,  in  some  degree, 
it  pertains  to  all  who  are  touched  with  medita- 
tion; and  the  endeavour  for  it,  which  is  an  en- 
deavour for  peace  and  spiritual  freedom,  is  an 
element    of    life    which    carries    across    centuries 


PROLOGUE  3 

and  millenniums.  Although  that  which  those 
Ancients  reached,  or  even  that  which  they  tried  for, 
may  not  be  for  us,  still  the  contemplation  of  their 
efforts  is  as  the  effect  of  noble  sculpture  and 
poetry,  bringing  something  like  the  final  calm, 
the  emotional  purge,  of  tragedy. 

In  some  such  way  my  thoughts  set  themselves 
in  the  watches  of  the  night,  and  were  confirmed  or 
criticised  in  the  hours  of  the  day.  They  have 
encouraged  me  to  attempt  some  ordering  and 
statement  of  the  ways  in  which  our  spiritual 
ancestors  of  all  times  and  countries  adjusted  them- 
selves to  the  fears  and  hopes  of  their  natures,  thus 
reaching  a  freedom  of  action  in  which  they  ac- 
complished their  lives;  or,  it  may  be,  they  did 
but  find  peace;  yet  brought  it  forth  from  such 
depth  of  conviction  that  their  peace  became  peace 
for  thousands  and  for  millions.  It  did  not  seem 
well  to  enter  circumstantially  upon  the  ante- 
cedents or  even  the  setting  of  these  men,  for  fear 
these  "watches  of  the  night"  might  become  a 
history  of  human  conviction.  Nor  will  the  at- 
tention be  more  than  casually  directed  to  the 
ways  in  which  they  were  influenced,  or  influenced 
others.  I  would  set  forth  rather  in  themselves, 
and  simply,  those  individuals  who  most  clearly 
illustrate  phases  of  human  adjustment  with  life,  its 
limitations,  aspirations,  and  conceived  determining 
powers,  working  within  or  from  without. 


4  DELIVERANCE 

But  however  we  may  seek  to  simplify  our  reflec- 
tions, we  cannot  limit  ourselves  to  any  one  category 
of  adjustment.  The  needs  of  men  are  not  the  same 
universally ;  and  the  human  adjustment  may  relate 
to  conduct  or  to  speculation,  to  distress  at  Hfe's 
chain  of  torment,  or  to  fear  of  extinction ;  it  may 
relate  to  the  impulse  to  speculate  and  know,  or  to 
the  need  to  be  "saved."  For  one  man  shall  find 
his  peace  in  action,  another  in  the  rejection  of  action, 
even  in  the  seeming  destruction  of  desires.  An- 
other shall  have  peace  and  freedom  through  intel- 
lectual enquiry,  while  another  must  obey  his  God, 
or  love  his  God,  and  may  stand  in  very  conscious 
need  of  divine  salvation.  The  adjustment  sought 
by  Confucius  was  very  different  from  that  which 
drew  the  mind  of  Plato,  or  led  Augustine  to  the 
City  of  God.  Often  quite  different  motives  may 
inspire  the  reasonings  which  incidentally  bring  men 
to  like  conclusions.  The  Absolute  Brahma  of  the 
Upanishads  and  the  Being  of  Parmenides  have  cer- 
tain common  metaphysical  foundations;  but  the 
motives  impelling  the  Hindu  and  the  Eleatic  to 
somewhat  similar  results  were  as  different  as  the 
Greek  and  Indian  temperaments,  —  as  different  as 
those  which  likewise  brought  Gotama  and  Hera- 
cleitus  to  the  conviction  that  existence  is  ceaseless 
flux.  The  life-adjustment  of  the  early  Greek  phi- 
losophers had  to  do  with  scientific  curiosity;  they 
were  seeking  hypothetical  explanations  of  the  world 


PROLOGUE  5 

about  them,  themselves  perhaps  implicitly  included ; 
they  were  not,  like  Gotama,  seeking  relief  from  the 
tedious  impermanence  of  personal  experience,  any 
more  than  they  were  seeking  to  assure  their  own 
eternal  welfare  in  and  through  the  love  of  God  — 
the  motive  around  which  surged  the  Christian  yearn- 
ing for  salvation.  Evidently  every  "religion"  is  a 
means  of  adjustment,  or  deliverance ;  but  there  are 
other  adjustments,  which  are  not  religious  in  any 
current  acceptation  of  the  word. 

There  is  an  advantage  in  commencing,  and  it 
may  be  ending,  with  the  seers  of  the  ancient  world, 
and  their  early  Christian  successors  to  the  suffrages 
of  men.  For  they  are  fundamental,  verily  ele- 
mental in  their  exemplifications  of  the  main  divisions 
of  the  human  need  for  an  adjustment  between  the 
instincts  and  faculties  of  human  nature  and  the 
powers  conceivably  controlling  its  accomplishment 
and  destiny.  We  shall  never  altogether  issue  from 
between  the  projected  lines  of  their  achievement, 
however  far  we  may  seem  to  have  advanced. 


CHAPTER  I 

Chald^a  and  Egypt 

TTT'HEN  did  the  need  for  adjustment  begin? 
^  ^  To  answer  this  is  to  answer  the  unanswerable 
question  —  when  did  men  begin  ?  Thirty  thousand 
years  ago,  on  the  cave  walls  at  Alt  ami  ra,  there 
were  paintings  of  animals,  possibly  carrying  tote- 
mistic  import.  Without  disturbing  these  "pre- 
historic" enigmas,  we  may  more  fruitfully  consider 
"historic"  beginnings,  say  in  Chaldaea  and  Egypt, 
—  these  being  ancient  times  for  us,  when  men's 
so-called  minds  were  filled  with  notions  which 
human  experience  has  since  found  irrational  and 
indeed  incomprehensible. 

It  is  always  difficult  for  one  time  to  understand 
another;  among  contemporaries  mutual  under- 
standing rarely  extends  beyond  the  range  of  con- 
geniality !  With  physical  needs  fundamentally  the 
same,  men  have  always  been  desirous,  restless, 
apprehensive,  anticipating  evils  real  or  imaginary, 
striving  to  guard  against  them,  —  evils  of  this  life 
or  touching  existence  after  death.  Although  archaic 
adjustments  with  imagined  anxieties  seem  so  foolish 
now,  the  underlying  human  nature  and  human  need 
are  related  to  ourselves.     Hundreds  of  thousands 

6 


CHALD^A  AND  EGYPT  7 

of  men  and  women  are  seeking  to  adjust  themselves 
with  the  eternal  ways,  and  hope  to  see  the  everlast- 
ing stars.  All  is  mystery  still,  albeit  the  forces 
holding  man  are  no  longer  "supernatural,"  and  the 
desired  adjustment  refers  little  to  the  life  to  come. 
Let  no  one  think  that  he  has  shaken  off  the  past ! 
We  are  in  and  of  it,  if  we  are  also  of  ourselves. 
Our  thoughts  and  the  images  in  which  we  clothe 
them,  what  ancestry  they  trail  out  of  a  dim  and 
ever  lengthening  distance,  back  through  Rome  to 
Greece,  and  through  Greece  backward  still  and 
eastward  to  the  valleys  of  the  Nile  and  the  Eu- 
phrates. And  there  the  receding  trail  only  begins, 
for  further  back  it  passes,  not  ceasing,  only  to  our 
blindness  vanishing  in  a  remote  and  semihuman 
past. 

It  is  well  to  recognise  the  pit  from  which  we  have 
been  digged.  Therefore,  if  for  no  other  purpose, 
let  us  contemplate,  for  a  little,  one  or  two  ancient 
lines  of  attempted  adjustment,  of  endeavour  after 
some  sort  of  spiritual  deliverance,  to  which  the  name 
of  no  individual  attaches,  but  rather  that  of  a 
people  or  a  land,  in  this  case  Mesopotamia  and 
Egypt.  The  peoples  of  Mesopotamia  as  well  as 
the  Egyptians  accumulated  a  colossal  material 
equipment,  and  made  a  large  advance  in  the  social 
ordering  of  life.  A  certain  King  Hammurapi  has 
of  late  years  become  the  central  figure  of  Meso- 
potamian  history.     At  the  opening  of  the  second 


8  DELIVERANCE 

millennium  before  Christ,  he  established  the  King- 
dom of  Babylon,  and  reigned  as  a  King  of  law  and 
righteousness,  as  well  as  might.  It  was  a  period, 
it  was  indeed  a  land,  of  trade  and  agriculture,  regu- 
lated by  law  and  custom.  Hammurapi  issued  a 
code  of  laws,  the  most  signal  legal  document  of  far 
antiquity,  and  a  worthy  predecessor  for  the  civil 
law  of  Rome,  of  which  it  may  have  been  a  remote 
and  partial  source.  Thus  the  Babylonian  people 
show  how  deftly  they  had  settled  themselves  in 
their  human  relationships,  and  had  reached  some 
facile  freedom  of  conduct.  Yet  their  lives  were 
overhung  with  dread.  They  were  very  fearful  of 
the  unseen  —  of  the  imagined  powers  which  they 
sought  to  coerce  by  magic,  or  move  through  prayer. 
They  had  thus  devised  nostrums  for  their  hamper- 
ing fears,  and  yet  had  found  no  sure  stay  for  their 
furthest  hopes  —  dreary  at  best,  and  at  worst  filled 
with  horror,  was  existence  within  and  beyond  the 
grave.  No  spell  or  prayer  had  been  devised  to 
help  the  dead.  Magic  and  prayer,  the  warning  of 
the  sheep's  liver,  the  portents  of  the  storm,  the  phases 
of  sun  and  moon  and  stars,  availed  only  the  living. 
As  the  centuries  went  on,  the  Babylonians  and 
Assyrians  improved  their  conceptions  of  the  Gods ; 
ascribed  justice  to  them,  beneficence,  righteousness, 
even  pity.  Yet  always  with  fear  and  abasement: 
"Thy  slave  who  bears  the  weight  of  thy  wrath 
is  covered  with  dust";    and  centuries  later  Nebu- 


CHALD^A  AND  EGYPT  9 

chadnezzar  says  that  he  loves  the  fear  of  God.  There 
had  also  come  to  the  Babylonians  and  Assyrians 
quite  positive  thoughts  of  their  own  shortcomings, 
omissions,  social  crimes.  All  such  delinquencies, 
when  thought  of  with  reference  to  the  gods,  fell 
within  the  category  of  sin.  They  bewailed  their 
sins  prostrate  before  their  gods,  and  begged  forgive- 
ness. Yet  they  never  distinguished  clearly  between 
involuntary  oversight  and  intended  wrong.  Cere- 
monial omission,  eating  or  treading  on  the  forbidden 
thing,  brought  divine  anger  with  plague  and  punish- 
ment, just  as  quickly  as  fraud,  incest,  and  murder. 
There  also  rose  among  them  the  wailing  cry  of  per- 
plexity over  the  good  man  brought  low,  the  cry  of 
one  who  has  done  his  best  and  yet  has  been  afflicted  : 
"If  I  only  knew  that  such  things  were  pleasing  before 
God  !  But  that  which  seems  good  to  a  man  is 
evil  before  God.  Who  may  understand  the  counsel 
of  the  gods  in  heaven  ?"  ^ 

At  all  events,  for  him  who  has  been  guilty,  as 
for  him  who  can  find  in  himself  no  sin,  penitence 
and  abasement  can  only  affect  the  remainder  of  his 
days  on  earth.  After  death  the  same  fate  awaits 
the  evil  and  the  good,  and  no  help  for  either.  Satis- 
faction, vengeance,  sense-gratification,  the  pleasures 
of  daily  life  and  the  tranquillising  occupations  of 

^  Zimmern,  Babylonische  Hymnen,  etc.,  pp.  27,  29.  Jastrow, 
"A  Babylonian  Parallel  to  Job,"  Journal  of  Biblical  Lit.,  Vol. 
XXV. 


lO  DELIVERANCE 

labour,  —  all  were  had  in  this  rich  river  land ;  its  ma- 
terial welfare  and  order,  the  degree  of  civilisation 
there  attained,  attest  the  existence  of  a  sufficiency 
of  practical  justice  and  law-abidingness.  But  Meso- 
potamia never  evolved  either  a  religion,  a  philosophy, 
or  an  ethical  scheme  that  could  lead  the  human 
spirit  to  freedom  or  peace. 

It  may  be  doubted  whether  the  Egyptians  thought 
more  clearly ;  but  their  temperament  was  different, 
and  their  Hves  would  seem  to  have  been  calm  and 
stable.  All  this,  however,  is  no  explanation  of  the 
marvels  of  constructive  foolishness,  no  explanation 
whatsoever  of  the  grossly  impossible  continuation 
of  life  after  death,  which  they  fabricated.  It  is 
natural  as  well  as  universal  not  to  think  of  death 
as  ending  all ;  the  natural  man  has  neither  the  data 
nor  a  sufficient  clarity  of  mind  to  reach  the  notion 
of  extinction.  His  impulse  is  to  imagine  how  the 
dead  can  goon  under  conditions  so  obviously  changed. 
But  any  elaboration  of  such  imaginings  is  apt  to 
bear  an  inverse  relation  to  his  intelligence  and  power 
to  discern  inconsistencies.  The  Egyptian  fabrica- 
tion of  a  cumulative  scheme  of  Hfe  beyond  the 
tomb  was  unhampered  by  any  sense  of  the  impos- 
sible. Provision  for  it  had  to  be  made  on  earth, 
and  the  expense  was  beyond  the  means  of  all  except 
Pharaohs  and  the  great  nobles.  Pyramids  bul- 
warked the  post-mortem  life  of  Egypt's  kings.  The 
texts  within  set  forth  the  further  means  whereby 


CHALDiEA  AND  EGYPT  n 

that  existence  should  be  continued  and  supported, 
should  be  filled  with  authority,  dignity,  occupation, 
supplied  with  dainty  food  and  with  pleasures  dis- 
tinctly of  the  flesh.  Every  measure  was  taken  to 
make  the  post-mortem  life  of  Pharaoh  and  his 
nobles  as  luxurious  as .  if  they  still  commanded 
countless  slaves  on  earth.  Their  tombs  were  fur- 
nished with  symbolical  conveniences,  with  serving 
statuettes,  and  chapters  from  the  Book  of  the 
Dead,  which  magically  caused  these  statuettes  to 
do  the  work  of  men  in  the  nether  world.  The 
venal  sacerdotal  imagination  encompassed  that  sub- 
terranean life  with  dangers  at  every  turn,  and  even 
devised  conditions  of  sinfulness,  so  that  priests  and 
scribes  might  also  furnish,  for  a  price,  charms  to 
quell  the  dangers  and  scrolls  to  disavow  the  sinful- 
ness, just  as  Indulgences  pertaining  to  the  nether 
world  were  to  be  bought  for  money  three  thousand 
years  afterwards.  Yet  during  those  early  Egyp- 
tian centuries,  a  clearer  morality  introduced  rewards 
and  punishments  into  the  scheme  of  the  life  to  come. 
To  some  extent,  the  post-mortem  welfare  of  the 
great,  and  possibly  of  the  lowly,  became  dependent 
on  the  virtues  of  their  lives  on  earth. 

In  this  combination  of  ethical  thought  with 
means  magical,  religious,  or  material,  for  support- 
ing life  beyond  the  tomb,  lay  the  most  striking  Egyp- 
tian endeavour  to  free  the  human  spirit  from  fear, 
and  adjust  man  to  the  conditions  and  possibilities 


12  DELIVERANCE 

of  his  life.  As  a  part  of  this  freeing  of  the  spirit, 
Egyptian  conceptions  of  the  divine  gained  ethical 
discrimination  and  universal  breadth.  The  gods, 
or  the  one  god  for  the  moment  deemed  supreme, 
would  be  less  capricious  if  clothed  with  right  and 
justice,  and  could,  if  omnipotent,  bear  more  effi- 
cient aid.  A  surer  sense  of  peace  was  won,  as  men 
realised  the  might  of  the  divine  favour,  and  more 
clearly  saw,  or  thought  they  saw,  how  it  should  be 
won  and  held.  Their  gods  were  righteous,  and 
would  save  the  righteous;  and  their  power  was 
adequate  since  they,  or  rather  the  momentarily 
supreme  one  among  them,  had  come  to  be  conceived 
as  Lord  and  Creator  not  of  Egypt  alone,  but  of  all 
earth's  lands,  and  as  supreme  also  in  the  world  of 
the  still  sentient  dead.  The  final  intimate  comfort 
came  with  the  thought  that  this  eternal  Lord  and 
Maker  of  Life  might  also  enter  the  king's  heart, 
and  bring  him  wisdom  and  life.  God  had  become 
the  mother  and  father  of  all  that  he  had  made,  and 
had  filled  Egypt  with  his  love.  One  king  at  least, 
the  revolutionary  Amenhotep  IV  (C.  1375  B.C.), 
possessed  these  thoughts,  and  could  pray  that  his 
eyes  might  be  satisfied  daily  with  beholding  Aton 
(the  supreme  and  universal  Sun-god)  when  he  dawns 
in  his  temple,  and  fills  it  with  his  own  self  by  his 
beams,  loving  and  life-giving  forever. 

The  name  was  nothing.     Aton  had  taken  many 
of  the  qualities  of  Amon  and  Osiris ;   and  when  the 


CHALD^A  AND  EGYPT  13 

name  of  Aton  was  stamped  out  In  the  succeeding 
reaction,  Amon  received  back  from  his  rival  attri- 
butes which  had  once  been  his,  but  which  in  Aton 
had  come  to  added  grace  and  power.  And  then  a 
last  advance  was  made ;  these  beautiful  conceptions 
spread  themselves  among  men,  even  among  those  of 
low  estate,  whose  lot  in  by-gone  times  had  been  scant 
burial  and  scant  equipment  for  any  life  thereafter. 
Amon  had  become  a  god  coming  to  the  silent,  sav- 
ing the  poor,  listening  to  the  cry  of  their  affliction. 
"O  Amon-Re,  I  love  thee  and  I  have  filled  my 
heart  with  thee.  Thou  wilt  rescue  me  out  of  the 
mouth  of  men  in  the  day  when  they  speak  lies : 
for  the  Lord  of  Truth,  he  liveth  in  truth."  ^ 

*  See   Breasted,   Religion   and    Thought    in    Ancient    Egypt, 
PP-  334.  355  and  passim. 


CHAPTER  II 

China:  Duty  and  Detachment 

/'CHINESE  meditation,  quietism,  individualistic 
^^^  inaction,  as  well  as  the  more  constructive  social 
energies  of  the  race,  reached  personal  exemplifica- 
tion and  classic  expression  at  about  the  same  time 
in  two  remarkable  personalities.  Lao  Tzu  and 
Confucius  were  Chinese  incarnations  of  the  vita 
contemplativa  and  the  vita  activa,  the  ^tbs  OewprjTiKo^ 
and  irpaKTLKo^.  One  might  whimsically  call  them  the 
Mary  and  Martha  of  China. 

These  two  modes  of  human  life  may  rest  on 
different  motives  and  assume  different  forms  with 
different  peoples.  The  contemplative  life  may 
issue  from  the  detached  intellectual  temperament, 
which  is  supremely  interested  in  knowing,  or  it 
may  issue  from  brooding  aversion  to  life's  more 
blatant  activities,  or  from  horror  over  a  sinful 
world  and  fearful  or  loving  consecration  to  one's 
own  salvation  and  the  God  with  whom  that  lies. 
The  active  life  may  embrace  many  and  diverse  in- 
tellectual interests,  may  have  religious  or  secular 
aims,  may  represent  devotion  to  the  social  fabric 
or  fierce  ambition. 

For  the  sake  of  clarity  one  distinguishes  these 
14 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  1 5 

tendencies  rather  sharply,  and  speaks  of  them  as 
opposites.  But,  of  course,  they  mingle  in  the  same 
individuals.  Moreover,  in  every  land,  those  who 
exhibit  markedly  one  tendency  will  have  much  in 
common  with  those  who  represent  the  other,  be- 
cause of  like  environment  and  racial  characteristics 
underlying  the  idiosyncrasies  of  individuals.  So 
the  views  of  Confucius  and  Lao  Tzu  show  affinity 
as  well  as  opposition.  It  is  better  to  speak  first  of 
Confucius,  because  Lao  Tzu,  although  the  elder  by 
some  fifty  years,  embodies  a  reaction  against  the 
more  dominant  Chinese  qualities  represented  in  the 
younger  man.^ 

How  did  Confucius  consider  life  and  his  relation- 
ship to  the  world,  and  set  himself  to  reach  such 
freedom  in  thought  and  corresponding  act  as  he 
was  capable  of.?  He  may  seem  a  very  bounden 
man;  but  he  was  free,  though  his  freedom  lay  in 
reverent  self-adaptation  to  chains  —  as  they  appear 
to  us.  Confucius  looked  sadly  upon  the  state  of 
affairs  about  him,  and  with  admiration  on  the  past 
as  he  read  it  in  that  ancient  history  and  poetry 
which  he  tended  with  such  care.  He  wished  to 
conform  his  conduct  to  the  ways  of  ancient  worthies, 
and  raise  the  misrule  of  the  Chinese  princes  to  the 
measure  of  the  (imagined)  government  of  the  an- 
cient (imagined)  kingdom.  In  the  adjustment  of 
his  conduct,  he  appears  to  have  been  faultless ;  and 
^  Confucius'  birth  is  securely  set  at  551  B.C. 


l6  DELIVERANCE 

while  he  realised  little  of  his  public  purpose,  he  did 
much  to  prescribe  the  ideal  which  China  has  ever 
since  revered.  His  life  began  with  learning,  and 
continued  learning  many  things,  the  wisdom  of 
the  ancient  sages  and  the  appointed  rites  and  cere- 
monies. With  this  went  ceaseless  effort  to  per- 
form the  rites,  and  make  them  the  garment  of  a 
character  conforming  to  the  Way  of  Heaven,  whose 
sure  and  righteous  power  presented  the  ultimate 
sanction  of  conduct,  —  and  so  the  standard  of  man's 
life-adjustment.  It  was  all  established  in  the  nar- 
ratives and  teaching  of  the  old  History  :  "The  way 
of  Heaven  is  to  bless  the  good,  and  make  the  bad 
miserable";  again,  "It  was  not  that  Heaven 
had  any  private  partiality  for  the  lord  of  Shang; 
it  simply  gave  its  favour  to  pure  virtue."  And  the 
old  History  also  taught  as  an  inspiration  that 
"The  glory  and  tranquillity  of  a  state  may  arise 
from  the  goodness  of  one  man."  ^ 

Accordingly,  the  entire  endeavour  of  Confucius 
was  to  model  his  conduct  upon  the  Way  of  Heaven 
as  illustrated  in  the  Book  of  History  and  the  over- 
interpreted  teaching  of  the  classic  Odes.  By  this 
means  his  character  would  become  such  that  his 
life  and  precepts  might  tranquillise  the  land,  a  re- 
sult which  might  be  hoped  for,  as  the  Shu  King  said, 
from  the  goodness  of  one  man. 

1  The  closing  words  of  the  Shu  King  (the  classic  Book  of  His- 
tory).    Legge's  Translation. 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  17 

Says  Confucius,  speaking  of  the  stages  of  his 
progress :  "At  fifteen  my  mind  was  bent  on  learn- 
ing ;  at  thirty  I  stood  firm ;  at  forty  I  had  no  doubts ; 
at  fifty  I  knew  the  decrees  of  Heaven ;  at  seventy 
I  could  follow  what  my  heart  desired,  without 
transgressing."  ^  So  through  a  long  life  came  his 
adjustment,  conforming  to  the  most  surely  sanc- 
tioned standards  that  he  could  conceive,  and  bring- 
ing with  it  spiritual  peace  and  freedom. 

The  contents  of  this  adjustment  will  be  seen  to 
include  an  endless  series  of  observances,  minute, 
meticulous,  painful,  —  the  conventions,  ceremonies, 
rites,  controlling  the  intercourse  of  society,  and 
prescribing  the  ceremonials  of  marriage,  burial, 
ancestor  worship,  worship  of  Heaven,  and  pro- 
pitiation of  all  the  spirits  affecting  human  lots  for 
good  or  ill.  These  rules  of  propriety  and  rites  and 
ceremonies  illustrate  the  graded  distinctions  obtain- 
ing between  Heaven  and  earth.  To  know  them 
and  carry  them  out  reverently  will  mould  the  char- 
acter aright.  The  finish  comes  from  Music,  which 
exhibits  the  Harmony  prevailing  between  earth  and 
Heaven.2 

Thus  music  and  ceremonies  supplement  each 
other,  and  unite  in  the  Confucian  scheme.  Within, 
the  character  and  will  must  correspond  with  the 

*  Confucian  Analects,  II,  4.     Legge's  Translation. 
2  See  the  great  collection  of  the  Li  Ki,  translated  by  Legge; 
Sacred  Books  of  the  East,  Vols.  27  and  28. 
c 


1 8  DELIVERANCE 

truth  and  righteousness  of  the  Way  of  Heaven. 
"The  Superior  Man  in  everything  considers  right- 
eousness to  be  essential.  He  performs  it  according 
to  the  rules  of  propriety  —  bringing  it  forth  in 
humility,  completing  it  in  sincerity."  He  seeks 
truth  rather  than  emolument;  and  is  distressed 
only  at  his  own  shortcomings,  not  at  poverty,  ill- 
treatment,  or  death.  He  seeks  friendship  with  the 
upright,  not  with  the  glib-tongued ;  he  finds  enjoy- 
ment in  the  study  of  ceremonies  and  music,  not  in 
idleness  and  feasting;  he  guards  himself  against 
lust,  anger,  avarice ;  he  stands  in  awe  of  the  ordi- 
nances of  Heaven,  of  great  men,  and  of  the  words 
of  the  sages. 

Certain  disciples  suspected  that  the  Master  was 
obsessed  with  the  learning  of  many  things.  Per- 
ceiving this,  he  said:  "Those  who  know  virtue  are 
few.  I  seek  a  unity  all-pervading."  It  was  asked 
what  these  words  might  mean,  and  the  answer  came 
from  one  of  the  disciples :  "The  doctrine  of  our 
Master  is  to  be  true  to  the  principles  of  our  nature 
and  the  benevolent  exercise  of  them  toward  others." 

The  correlated  unity  of  the  whole  matter  is  made 
to  appear  in  the  most  comprehensive  of  Confucian 
statements :  "What  Heaven  has  conferred  is  called 
the  Nature :  an  accordance  with  this  Nature  is 
called  the  Path ;  the  regulation  of  the  Path  is  called 
Instruction. 

"The  Path  may  not  be  left  for  an  instant.     If  it 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  19 

could  be  left,  it  would  not  be  the  Path.  On  this 
account  the  superior  man  does  not  wait  till  he  sees 
things,  to  be  cautious,  nor  till  he  hears  things,  to 
be  apprehensive.  .  .  . 

"While  there  are  no  stirrings  of  pleasure,  anger, 
sorrow,  or  joy,  the  mind  may  be  said  to  be  in  the 
state  of  Equilibrium.  When  those  feelings  have 
been  stirred,  and  they  act  in  their  due  degree,  there 
ensues  what  may  be  called  the  state  of  Harmony. 
This  EquiHbrium  is  the  great  root,  and  this  Har- 
mony is  the  universal  Path. 

"Let  the  states  of  Equilibrium  and  Harmony 
exist  in  perfection,  and  a  happy  order  will  prevail 
throughout  heaven  and  earth,  and  all  things  will 
flourish."  1 

That  is  to  say,  these  principles,  properly  filled 
out  with  the  accumulated  precepts  of  political  and 
social  wisdom,  will,  if  observed,  insure  the  tran- 
quillity of  the  state  and  produce  correct  and  reverent 
ties  between  ruler  and  people,  father  and  son, 
husband  and  wife,  elder  brother  and  younger,  and 
between  friend  and  friend. 

Here  is  presented,  not  altogether  clearly,  the 
standard  and  the  sanction  of  Confucius*  adjust- 
ment of  his  life  to  the  order  of  Heaven  —  which  is 

*  This  is  from  Chapter  I  of  the  Chung  Yung,  or  Doctrine  of 
the  Mean,  ascribed  to  the  grandson  of  Confucius,  and  recog- 
nised as  an  authoritative  statement  of  the  Master's  teaching. 
Cf.  also,  ib.,  II,  8. 


20  DELIVERANCE 

the  aggregate  of  the  divine  spontaneously  creative 
forces  and  man's  share  of  them  which  constitutes 
his  nature.  Conformity  to  Heaven's  high  ordain- 
ments  —  to  the  Path  —  frees  the  sage  from  the  fear 
of  all  things  opposed  or  irrelevant  to  these  his  rules 
of  conduct.  The  people  also  should  be  kept  in  Hke 
free  conformity ;  —  they  should  be  instructed  in  the 
rules  of  propriety  and  should  be  led  through  their 
virtue,  not  coerced  by  laws.  "The  Master  said: 
*If  the  people  be  led  by  laws,  and  uniformity  be 
sought  to  be  given  them  by  punishments,  they  will 
try  to  avoid  the  punishment,  but  will  have  no  sense 
of  shame.  If  they  be  led  by  virtue,  and  uniformity 
be  sought  to  be  given  them  by  the  rules  of  pro- 
priety, they  will  have  the  sense  of  shame,  and, 
moreover,  will  become  good.' " 

But  there  was  need  of  exertion  on  the  part  of 
rulers  to  keep  the  people  in  the  Path  —  that  had 
been  the  way  of  the  ancient  sage  Emperors.  Virtu- 
ous and  energetic  ministers  should  be  employed,  and 
not  the  useless.  Possibly,  when  all  things  were  well 
administered,  the  ruler  himself  might  gravely  and 
sedately,  without  active  exertion,  occupy  his  throne. 

One  observes  that  this  cautious  Chinaman,  in 
his  adjustment,  did  not  go  beyond  the  necessary 
assurance  of  his  convictions,  and  refused  to  discuss 
from  the  religious  or  metaphysical  point  of  view 
the  ordinances  of  Heaven,  or  death,  or  the  service 
of  the  spirits  of  the  dead.     Such  matters  did  not 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  21 

fall  within  the  needs  of  his  personal  adjustment, 
nor  within  the  needs  of  his  mission  to  his  land. 

Turning  now  to  Taoism,  and  observing  what  its 
doctrines  had  in  common  with  the  system  of  Con- 
fucius, one  notices  first  the  name.  That  was  taken 
from  the  broad  Confucian,  or  rather  Chinese,  con- 
ception of  the  TaOy  —  meaning  the  Path,  the  Way 
or  Method.  While  retaining  these  meanings,  Tao 
also  drew  to  itself  in  the  thought  of  Lao  Tzu  and 
Chuang  Tzu  (perhaps  his  greater  follower)  a  com- 
plementary meaning,  that  of  the  universal  power, 
to  wit,  "Heaven"  or  nature  spontaneously  creative 
—  of  which  Tao  is  the  Way.  Likewise  the  Tao  of 
man  and  beast  might  be  not  only  the  Way  but  also 
the  Nature  of  man  and  beast.  Then,  through  a 
suppression  of  distinctions  or  a  union  of  contraries, 
Tao  became  an  obscurely  conceived  Absolute. 
Neither  Confucianism  nor  Taoism  had  any  definite 
conception  of  a  God  above  Nature  and  distinct 
from  it;  although  both  drew  current  notions  of 
invisible  spirit-existences  or  influences  from  the 
common  fund  of  Chinese  superstition  and  tradition. 
Both  systems  emphasized  the  effect  of  virtue  and 
character,  —  the  exertionless  influence  of  the  sage. 
But,  besides  this,  Confucius  taught  the  regular 
efficiency  of  action  and  exertion  on  the  sage's  part, 
while  Lao  Tzu  insisted  on  despising  it. 

To  Confucius  the  web  of  proprieties  was  nearly 
all  in  all ;   while  Lao  Tzu  relied  consistently  on  the 


22  DELIVERANCE 

inherent  virtue  of  the  Tao.  Thus  it  was  that  the 
former  held  fast  to  the  thought  (so  replete  with  the 
"proprieties")  of  reciprocity:  Do  not,  of  course, 
do  ill  to  any  man;  but  recompense  goodness  with 
goodness,  and  evil  with  justice,  —  the  last  thought 
may  sanction  punishment  if  not  revenge.  But 
Lao  Tzu,  holding  fast  to  the  goodness  of  the  Tao, 
would  treat  evil  with  goodness,  of  a  mild  and  pass- 
ive sort,  one  may  imagine ;  and  would  not  take  up 
the  foolish  way  of  exertion  in  order  to  punish  the 
evil-doer.  It  fell  in  with  Taoism  to  emphasise  the 
passive  virtues  of  gentleness  and  humility,  approved 
likewise  by  Confucius.  Beyond  this,  the  inaction 
and  indifference  of  Taoism  proceeded  easily  along  the 
lofty,  somewhat  scornful,  path  of  the  obliteration  of 
differences  and  identification  of  opposites. 

One  may  contemplate  with  advantage  and 
amusement  the  manner  of  the  life-adjustments  of 
Lao  Tzu,  and  Chuang  Tzu,  who  stand  to  each  other, 
only  with  more  generations  between,  as  Socrates  to 
Plato.  Lao  Tzu,  a  deliciously  enigmatic  person, 
appears,  if  Taoist  sources  may  be  trusted,  to  have 
quite  dumfounded  Confucius  in  a  most  improbable 
interview;  he  left  a  composition  since  called  the 
Tao-U-Kingf  of  which,  however,  his  authorship  has 
been  strenuously  denied.  The  work  represents  at 
all  events  the  more  amorphous  strata  of  Taoist 
doctrine,  and  one  may  as  well  ascribe  it  to  this 
incomprehensible  dragon  of  a  Lao  Tzu.     The  trans- 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  23 

lations  vary ;  *  and  no  man  knows  what  Lao  Tzu 
meant  by  Tao.  Doubtless  he  himself  did  not 
know,  a  fact  to  comfort  us  and  lead  to  better  under- 
standing on  our  part.  Whatever  we  make  of  Tao, 
the  book  represents  an  adjustment  of  an  individual 
to  his  world,  with  thoughts  touching  the  fussiness 
of  men  over  the  unimportant.  It  also  is  as  a  hall 
of  echoes,  where  one  catches  mocking  notes  of 
Brahma,  of  Heracleitus,  or  of  Jesus. 

Lao  Tzu,  like  Confucius,  lived  when  China  was  a 
group  of  disorderly  and  often  hostile  states.  Past 
and  present  were  in  his  mind.  Had  there  not  been 
in  the  foretime  plenty  of  sage  rulers  and  energetic 
ministers,  all  benevolently  inclined  ?  What  had 
come  of  it  but  this  confusion  ?  Confucius  (if  Lao 
Tzu  ever  heard  of  him)  with  his  well-meaning  and 
tedious  efforts  at  reform,  might  seem  to  crown  a 
line  of  futile  endeavourers.  Perhaps  it  was  all  a 
mistake  to  try  to  control  the  people.  Since  coercion 
brought  evil,  why  not  try  the  opposite  method  of 
leaving  men  to  the  virtue  of  their  inherent  nature  ? 
After  all,  what  did  it  matter  ?  Why  not  muse  in 
peace  and  quiet,  contemplating  this  basic  human 
nature  which  was  good  ? 

Lao  Tzu  is  a  puzzle.'  If  one  could  be  certain  that 
the  Tao-te-King  is  his  !    and  if  its  translators  only 

1  Notice  those  by  Legge  {Sacred  Books  of  the  Easty  Vol. 
XXXIX),  by  de  Harlez  in  Annales  de  la  Musee  Guimety  and  by 
Dr.  Paul  Carus  (Open  Court  Pub.  Co.,  Chicago,  1898). 


24  DELIVERANCE 

agreed  a  little  better  !  We  may  be  inclined  to  won- 
der whether  in  the  Tao-te-King  the  Chinese  musing 
spirit  was  not  assisted  by  the  spirit  of  the  vine,  a 
very  frequent  aid  to  meditation  in  those  old  times. 
These  are  queer  sentences:  "I  alone  appear Hstless 
and  still,  as  if  my  desires  had  not  dawned ;  like  an 
infant  which  has  not  yet  smiled ;  dejected,  forlorn, 
like  one  who  has  no  home.  I  seem  to  be  drifting 
on  the  sea."  This  drifter  knew  at  least  to  what 
he  would  not  tie  himself,  or  direct  his  course  by.  It 
should  not  be  action,  action  taken  with  the  purpose 
of  getting  things,  or  impressing  or  compelling  other 
men.  There  had  been  too  much  of  that !  What 
had  the  ruler's  meddling  ever  brought  but  lawless- 
ness ?  And  as  for  coercion,  as  for  war  —  after  an 
army,  briars  and  thorns  spring  up  !  Did  some  far 
tradition  come  to  Lao  Tzu  that  the  great  sage- 
rulers  of  the  imagined  past  had  done  nothing,  and 
under  them  the  people  had  thriven  in  blissful  igno- 
rance that  there  was  a  government  ?  As  he  tested 
kindred  thoughts  in  his  own  case,  the  principle  of 
inaction,  with  passivity,  proved  itself  valid.  He 
found  his  kingdom  within  him :  —  without  going 
abroad,  one  understands;  no  need  to  look  out  of 
the  window  to  see  the  Tao  of  Heaven.  "Let  us 
go,"  said  someone,  "and  wander  over  the  world." 
"No,"  replied  Lao  Tzu,  "the  world  is  just  as  you  see 
it  here." 

Indeed,  what  is  the  use  of  learning  many  things  .? 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  25 

Better  discard  such  knowledge  and  restless  wisdom. 
It  is  the  softest  thing  that  overcomes  the  hardest. 
The  advantage  hes  with  inaction.  Let  one  be  as 
humble  and  non-assertive  as  water,  always  taking 
the  lowest  place. 

A  thoughtful  man  seeks  to  rest  his  temperamental 
convictions  upon  some  absolute  principle,  at  once 
sure  and  sufficing.  Lao  Tzu  found  such  in  an  eternal 
unchanging  root  within  the  nature  of  man  and 
behind  the  ways  of  Earth  and  Heaven.  Thereupon 
all  things  became  for  him  fundamentally  the  same, 
fundamentally  one.  Differences  were  but  surface 
fooHshness ;  complete  inaction  with  respect  to  them 
approved  itself  as  life's  true  rule.  One  can  almost 
feel  him  groping  after  this  changeless  first  beginning 
and  eternal  principle  of  all  things,  thus  perhaps: 
"There  was  something  undefined  and  complete, 
coming  into  existence  before  Heaven  and  Earth. 
How  still  it  was  and  formless,  standing  alone,  and 
undergoing  no  change,  reaching  everywhere  and 
exhaustless.  It  may  be  regarded  as  the  Mother  of 
all  things.  I  do  not  know  its  name,  and  I  give  it 
the  designation  of  the  Tao.  .  .  .  Man  takes  his 
law  from  the  Earth;  the  Earth  takes  its  law  from 
Heaven;  Heaven  from  the  Tao.  The  law  of  the 
Tao  is  its  being  what  it  is."  ^ 

^  Tao-te-King,  25.  Is  not  this  a  far-ofF  pre-natal  echo  of 
the  One  of  Plotinus  ?  The  translator  (Legge)  felt  doubtful 
of  the  last  sentences. 


26  DELIVERANCE 

Therein  lay  mystery,  unapproachable,  ineffable, 
not  to  be  imparted.  As  the  goodness  of  doing  good 
is  not  the  real  good,  so  the  Tao  that  can  be  attained, 
that  can  be  trodden  as  the  Path,  is  not  the  endur- 
ing and  unchanging  Tao.  Evidently  the  name  that 
can  be  named  cannot  be  the  name  of  the  Enduring 
and  Unchanging.  This  cannot  be  known  and 
named  so  distinguishably :  things  distinguishable 
and  namable  are  not  the  Tao. 

Producing  all  things,  the  Tao  strives  not,  cloth- 
ing all  as  with  a  garment,  yet  not  asserting  itself  as 
Lord ;  existing  alike  in  the  smallest  and  the  greatest. 
Out  of  weakness,  strength;  thus  it  proceeds  by 
contraries.  Heaven  and  Earth,  its  grand  embodi- 
ments, do  not  act  from  benevolence.  They  do  not 
strive,  yet  always  overcome ;  the  meshes  of  Heaven's 
net  are  large,  but  let  nothing  escape.  It  lessens 
abundance,  it  supplements  deficiency.  Heaven 
shows  no  favour ;  it  is  always  on  the  side  of  the  good 
man. 

Likewise  the  sage,  says  Lao  Tzu,  he  who  knows 
and  holds  the  eternal  Tao,  will  show  no  nepotism. 
The  good  he  will  meet  with  good,  and  what  else 
has  he  within  him  with  which  to  meet  the  bad  ? 
To  embody  and  imitate  the  Tao  was  Lao  Tzu's  per- 
sonal adjustment.  As  touching  his  effect  on  other 
men,  Tao-like  he  would  proceed  by  contraries, 
making  no  effort,  renouncing  sageness,  discarding 
benevolence. 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  27 

The  Tao's  way  is  plain  —  but  the  people  love 
by-paths.  The  sage  shall  not  even  try  to  teach  those 
in  whom  there  may  be  no  place  for  truth.  He  will 
do  nothing,  and  the  people  will  be  transformed  of 
themselves.  All  definitely  directed  effort  departs 
from  the  purposeless  indistinguishable  effectiveness 
of  Tao,  and  will  result  in  the  opposite  of  what  is 
willed :  out  of  law,  lawlessness ;  out  of  the  pro- 
prieties, disorder. 

Not  very  clear  and  perhaps  foolish,  much  of  this 
Tao-te-King!  Perhaps  we  have  been  barking  up 
the  wrong  tree  in  following  Lao  Tzu,  and  the  real 
game  for  us  is  Chuang  Tzu  after  all  —  not  Socrates 
but  Plato.  At  all  events,  in  Chuang  Tzu,  Chinese 
musing  and  indifference  has  metaphysical  depth  and 
wayward  charm;  he  is  not  merely  a  puzzle,  but  a 
delight. 

Artist  as  well  as  metaphysician,  Chuang  Tzu  in  his 
dialogues  gives  his  arguments  to  various  worthies, 
putting  them  even  in  the  mouth  of  a  somewhat 
apocryphal  Confucius.  In  this  he  shares  the  faculty 
(one  feels  incompetent  to  proceed  further  with  the 
comparison)  of  a  Plato.  One  is  embarrassed  by  his 
riches  and  his  waywardness.  He  has  also  proved  a 
hard  nut  to  scholars,^   and  to   the   Chinese   them- 

*  There  are  two  English  translations  made  with  ripe  knowledge ; 
that  of  Legge  in  Vols.  39  and  40,  Sacred  Books  of  the  Easty  and 
that  of  Herbert  A.  Giles  (Quaritch,  1889).  One  who  does  not 
know  Chinese  may  at  least  enjoy  the  delightful  charm  of  the 


28  DELIVERANCE 

selves,  for  whom  he  is  more  heretic  than  orthodox. 
He  lived  from  the  fourth  into  the  third  century 
before  Christ,  and  a  century  or  two  later  a  Chinese 
historian  compared  his  teachings  to  a  flood  which 
spreads  at  its  own  sweet  will;  consequently  none 
could  apply  them  to  any  definite  use;  they  were 
too  far-reaching.  Long  after,  at  the  close  of  the 
Ming  period,  a  Chinese  commentator  speaks  ap- 
positely of  his  style:  "The  sudden  statement  and 
the  sudden  proof;  the  sudden  illustration  and  the 
sudden  reasoning;  the  decision,  made  to  appear  as 
no  decision;  the  connexion,  now  represented  as 
no  connexion;  the  repetition,  turning  out  to  be  no 
repetition :  —  these  features  come  and  go  in  the 
paragraphs  like  the  clouds  in  the  open  firmament, 
changing  every  moment  and  delightful  to  behold. 
Some  one  describes  it  well :  'the  guiding  thread 
in  the  unspun  floss;  the  snake  sleeping  in  the 
grass.'"! 

Chuang  Tzu  proceeds  from  Lao  Tzu,  or  at  all  events 
represents  a  further  stage  in  the  progress  of  Chinese 
quietism  and  its  justification.  He  stands  upon  the 
adjustment  reached  by  his  Master,  but  there  he 
does  not  rest.  The  basis  of  this  adjustment  is  the 
Tao.    More  clearly  than  his  predecessor,  Chuang  Tzu 

latter.  It  is  the  one  from  which  I  have  taken  my  extracts, 
though  with  qualms  over  the  differences  between  Prof.  Giles  and 
Dr.  Legge. 

1  From  Legge,  Sacred  Books  of  the  Easty  Vol.  40,  p.  275. 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  29 

shows  the  Tao  to  be  the  transcendental  root  and  core 
of  oneness  beneath  the  apparent  manifold  of  exist- 
ence, and  also  the  Norm  of  living  for  every  creature. 
With  this  conception  of  Tao  as  his  basis,  he  shows 
the  relativity  of  qualities  and  the  subjectivity  of 
concepts,  also  the  folly  of  applying  the  measure  of 
one  thing  to  the  being  or  action  of  another.  Pro- 
ceeding further,  he  discloses  the  Identity  of  Con- 
traries, and  posits  as  a  working  principle  the  sup- 
pression of  the  silly  phenomenal  self  with  its  passions 
and  desires,  while  he  establishes  the  real  eternal 
Self  as  one  with  the  Tao.^  Thus  Chuang  Tzu's 
adjustment,  compared  with  Lao  Tzu*s,  elaborates  the 
identification  of  Self  with  the  Tao,  and  the  identi- 
fication of  right  living  with  the  ways  of  the  Tao's 
aimless  omnipotence. 

These  principles  may  be  trite,  their  discussion 
somewhat  banal.  But  they  came  to  Chuang  Tzu 
with  the  freshness  of  dawn,  and  made  the  matter 
of  delightful  argument  and  the  stimulus  of  dreams 
dreamed  with  a  purpose.  Through  this  picturesque 
argumentation  let  us  track,  if  we  can,  his  adjust- 
ment with  life. 

The  monstrous  Roc  flying  high  above  the  earth 
is  as  a  mote  in  the  sunbeam :  after  this  and  other 
illustrations  of  the  subjective  relativity  of  times  and 
magnitudes,  the  argument  turns  to  the  identity  of 

*  He  reaches  something  like  the  conception  of  the  Atman 
Brahman  in  the  Upanishads.    Cf.  post,  Chapter  III. 


30  DELIVERANCE 

Subjective  and  Objective,  the  one  emanating  from 
the  other;  then  to  the  blending  of  apparent  con- 
traries, which  merge  in  an  infinite  One. 

"Separation  is  the  same  as  construction;  con- 
struction is  the  same  as  destruction.  Nothing  is 
subject  either  to  construction  or  to  destruction,  for 
these  conditions  are  brought  together  into  One. 
Only  the  truly  intelligent  understand  this  principle 
of  the  identity  of  all  things.  .  .  .  But  to  wear  out 
one's  intellect  in  an  obstinate  adherence  to  the  in- 
dividuality of  things,  this  is  called  Three  in  the 
morning" 

"What  is  Three  in  the  morning?"  exclaims  someone. 

"A  keeper  of  monkeys,"  replies  the  speaker, 
"said  with  regard  to  their  rations  of  chestnuts  that 
each  monkey  was  to  have  three  in  the  morning  and 
four  at  night.  But  at  this  the  monkeys  were  very 
angry,  so  the  keeper  said  they  might  have  four  in 
the  morning  and  three  at  night;  with  which  ar- 
rangement they  were  all  well  pleased.  The  actual 
number  of  the  chestnuts  remained  the  same,  but 
there  was  an  adaptation  to  the  likes  and  dislikes  of 
those  concerned.  Such  is  the  principle  of  putting 
oneself  into  subjective  relation  with  externals." 

"There  is  nothing,"  continues  the  speaker  after 
further  interrogatories,  "under  the  canopy  of  heaven 
greater  than  the  tip  of  an  autumn  spikelet.  A  vast 
mountain  is  a  small  thing.  Neither  is  there  any  age 
greater  than   that  of  a  child   cut  off  in  infancy. 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  31 

The  universe  and  I  came  into  being  together;  and 
I  and  everything  therein  are  One." 

At  the  end,  the  argument  bathes  in  the  mystery 
of  life :  "The  revolutions  of  ten  thousand  years 
leave  the  Sage's  Unity  unscathed.  .  .  .  How  do 
I  know  that  love  of  life  is  not  a  delusion  after  all  ? 
How  do  I  know  but  that  he  who  dreads  to  die  is 
not  as  a  child  who  has  lost  the  way  and  cannot  find 
his  home  ?  .  .  .  Some  will  even  interpret  the 
very  dream  they  are  dreaming;  and  only  when 
they  awake  do  they  know  it  was  a  dream.  By  and 
by  comes  the  Great  Awakening,  and  then  we  find 
out  that  this  life  is  really  a  great  dream.  Fools 
think  they  are  awake  now,  and  flatter  themselves 
they  know  if  they  are  really  princes  or  peasants. 
Confucius  and  you  are  both  dreams;  and  I  who 
say  you  are  dreams,  —  I  am  but  a  dream  myself. 
.  .  .  Once  upon  a  time,  I,  Chuang  Tzu,  dreamt  I 
was  a  butterfly,  fluttering  hither  and  thither.  I  was 
conscious  only  of  following  my  fancies  as  a  butter- 
fly, and  was  unconscious  of  my  individuality  as  a 
man.  Suddenly  I  awaked,  and  there  I  lay,  myself 
again.  Now  I  do  not  know  whether  I  was  then  a 
man  dreaming  I  was  a  butterfly,  or  whether  I  am 
now  a  butterfly  dreaming  I  am  a  man." 

So  much  for  relativity  and  the  futility  of  apparent 
contraries,  and  so  much  for  the  mystery  of  it  all. 
Chuang  Tzu  oflFers  a  different  illustration  of  the 
folly  of  conventional  human  judgements  in  a  chap- 


32  DELIVERANCE 

ter  beginning  thus:  "It  was  the  time  of  autumn 
floods.  Every  stream  poured  into  the  river  which 
swelled  in  its  turbid  course.  The  banks  receded 
so  far  from  one  another  that  it  was  impossible 
to  tell  a  cow  from  a  horse.  Then  the  Spirit  of 
the  River  laughed  for  joy  that  all  the  beauty  of 
the  earth  was  gathered  to  himself.  Down  with  the 
stream  he  journeyed  east,  until  he  reached  the 
ocean.  There,  looking  eastwards  and  seeing  no 
limit  to  its  waves,  his  countenance  changed.  And 
as  he  gazed  over  the  expanse,  he  sighed  and  said 
to  the  Spirit  of  the  Ocean,  *A  vulgar  proverb  says 
that  he  who  has  heard  but  part  of  the  truth  thinks 
no  one  equal  to  himself.     And  such  a  one  am  I.  .  .  .' 

"To  which  the  Spirit  of  the  Ocean  replied,  *You 
cannot  speak  of  ocean  to  a  well-frog,  the  creature 
of  a  narrower  sphere.  You  cannot  speak  of  ice  to 
a  summer  insect,  the  creature  of  a  season.  You 
cannot  speak  of  Tao  to  a  pedagogue ;  his  scope  is 
too  restricted.  But  now  that  you  have  emerged 
from  your  narrow  sphere  and  have  seen  the  great 
ocean,  I  can  speak  to  you  of  great  principles.'" 
He  then  explains  how  vast  the  ocean  is,  and  how  tri- 
fling a  thing  it  is  in  the  Universe.  But  man,  as  com- 
pared with  all  creation,  is  as  the  tip  of  a  hair  upon  a 
horse's  skin. 

"Very  well,"  replied  the  Spirit  of  the  River, 
"am  I  then  to  regard  the  universe  as  great  and  the 
tip  of  a  hair  as  small  ?" 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  33 

"Not  at  all,"  said  the  Spirit  of  the  Ocean.  "Di- 
mensions are  limitless ;  time  is  endless.  Conditions 
are  not  invariable;  terms  are  not  final.  Thus  the 
wise  man  looks  into  space,  and  does  not  regard  the 
small  as  too  little,  nor  the  great  as  too  much ;  for 
he  knows  that  there  is  no  limit  to  dimension.  He 
looks  back  into  the  past,  and  does  not  grieve  over 
what  is  far  off,  nor  rejoice  over  what  is  near,  for  he 
knows  that  time  is  without  end.  He  investigates 
fulness  and  decay,  and  does  not  rejoice  if  he  suc- 
ceeds, nor  lament  if  he  fails;  for  he  knows  that 
conditions  are  not  invariable.  He  who  clearly 
apprehends  the  scheme  of  existence,  does  not  re- 
joice over  life,  nor  pine  at  death ;  for  he  knows  that 
terms  are  not  final." 

The  great  man  acts  differently  from  others,  but 
takes  no  credit,  nor  does  he  despise  those  who  act 
otherwise.  "Perfect  virtue  acquires  nothing;  the 
truly  great  man  ignores  self;  this  is  the  height  of 
self-discipline.  .  .  .  From  the  point  of  view  of  Tao 
[the  Spirit  of  the  Ocean  is  speaking]  there  are  no 
extremes  of  value  or  worthlessness.  Men  indi- 
vidually value  themselves  and  hold  others  cheap. 
The  world  collectively  withholds  from  the  individual 
the  right  of  appraising  himself. 

"If  we  say  that  a  thing  is  great  or  small  because 
it  is  relatively  great  or  small,  then  there  is  nothing 
in  all  creation  which  is  not  great,  nothing  which  is 
not  small.  ...     If  we  say  that  anything  is  good 

D 


34  DELIVERANCE 

or  evil  because  it  is  either  good  or  evil  in  our  eyes, 
then  there  is  nothing  which  is  not  good,  nothing 
which  is  not  evil.  .  .  ." 

"One  might  as  well  talk  of  the  existence  of 
heaven  without  that  of  earth,  or  of  the  negative 
principle  without  the  positive.  .  .  .  Rulers  have 
abdicated  under  different  conditions,  dynasties 
have  been  continued  under  different  conditions. 
Those  who  did  not  hit  off  a  favourable  time  and 
were  in  opposition  to  their  age,  they  were  called 
usurpers.  Those  who  did  hit  off  the  right  time  and 
were  in  harmony  with  their  age,  they  were  called 
patriots.  Fair  and  softly,  my  River  Friend ;  what 
should  you  know  of  value  and  worthlessness,  of 
great  and  small  V* 

"In  this  case,"  replied  the  Spirit  of  the  River, 
"what  am  I  to  do  and  what  am  I  not  to  do  .?  How 
am  I  to  arrange  my  declinings  and  receivings,  my 
takings-hold  and  my  lettings-go  .?" 

"From  the  point  of  view  of  Tao,"  said  the  Spirit 
of  the  Ocean,  "value  and  worthlessness  are  like 
slopes  and  plains.  .  .  .  Tao  is  without  beginning, 
without  end.  Other  things  are  born  and  die. 
They  are  impermanent;  and  now  for  better,  now 
for  worse,  they  are  ceaselessly  changing  form. 
Past  years  cannot  be  recalled;  time  cannot  be 
arrested.  The  succession  of  states  is  endless ;  and 
every  end  is  followed  by  a  new  beginning.  Thus 
it  may  be  said  that  man's  duty  to  his  neighbour 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  35 

IS  embodied  in  the  eternal  principles  of  the  uni- 
verse. 

"The  life  of  man  passes  by  like  a  galloping  horse, 
changing  at  every  turn,  at  every  hour.  What  should 
he  do,  other  than  let  his  decomposition  go  on  ?" 

"If  this  is  the  case,"  retorted  the  Spirit  of  the 
River,  "pray  what  is  the  value  of  Tao  ?" 

"Those  who  understand  Tao,"  answered  the 
Spirit  of  the  Ocean,  "must  necessarily  apprehend 
the  eternal  principles  above  mentioned  and  be  clear 
as  to  their  application.  Consequently,  they  do  not 
suffer  injury  from  without." 

Much  knowledge  is  a  curse ;  one  should  know  the 
inner  principles.  Chuang  Tzu  states  his  underlying 
doctrine  thus :  "At  the  beginning  of  the  beginning, 
even  Nothing  did  not  exist.  Then  came  the  period 
of  the  Nameless.  When  One  came  into  existence, 
there  was  One,  but  it  was  formless.  When  things 
got  that  by  which  they  came  into  existence,  it  was 
called  their  virtue.  That  which  was  formless,  but 
divided  {i.e.  allotted),  though  without  interstice 
(unbroken  in  continuity)  was  called  Destiny. 
Then  came  the  movement  which  gave  life,  and  things 
produced  in  accordance  with  the  principles  of  life 
had  what  is  called  Form.  When  form  encloses 
the  spiritual  part,  each  with  its  own  characteristics, 
that  is  called  its  nature.  By  cultivating  this  nature, 
we  are  carried  back  to  virtue;  and  if  this  is  per- 
fected, we  become  as  all  things  were  in  the  begin- 


36  DELIVERANCE 

ning.  We  become  unconditioned,  and  the  uncon- 
ditioned is  great." 

Chuang  Tzu,  like  Lao  Tzu,  represents  the  human 
need  to  grope  for  a  foundation,  upon  which  to 
stand  with  certainty  of  soul  and  freedom  of  action. 
When  it  is  found,  reliance  upon  one's  principles  is 
all  that  is  needed,  and  acquiescence.  Chuang  Tzu 
sums  up  his  own  acquiescence  (which  was  his  ad- 
justment to  life)  in  a  phrase  several  times  repeated : 
"Tao  gives  me  this  form,  this  toil  in  manhood,  this 
repose  in  old  age,  this  rest  in  death.  And  surely 
that  which  is  such  a  kind  arbiter  of  my  life  is  the 
best  arbiter  of  my  death." 

Evidently  one  should  immerse  oneself  in  that 
essential  virtue  which  lies  far  beneath  the  active 
manifestations  of  social  relationships.  This  will  be 
to  keep  oneself  out  of  the  web  of  conventional 
duties,  free  to  muse  and  think  and  live  within  one- 
self and  Tao.  More  fundamentally  still  it  will 
consist  in  looking  within  for  the  real  Tao-accordant 
Self,  and  in  throwing  off  the  passions  and  desires 
of  the  Self's  surface  entanglements.  Such  a  life 
and  such  a  Self  will  for  the  world  express  itself  in 
categories  of  inaction. 

This  philosopher  can  put  his  principles  pic- 
turesquely :  When  Chuang  Tzu's  wife  died,  a  friend 
went  to  console,  and  found  "the  widower  sitting  on 
the  ground,  singing,  with  his  legs  spread  out  at  a 
right  angle,   and   beating  time  on   a  bowl."     The 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  37 

friend  thinks  self-restraint  well  enough,  but  this  is 
going  too  far. 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  Chuang  Tzu;  "when  she 
died,  I  could  not  help  being  affected  by  her  death. 
Soon,  however,  I  remembered  that  she  had  already- 
existed  in  a  previous  state  before  birth,  without 
form  or  even  substance ;  that  while  in  that  uncon- 
ditioned condition,  substance  was  added  to  spirit; 
that  this  substance  then  assumed  form;  and  that 
the  next  stage  was  birth.  And  now  by  virtue  of  a 
further  change  she  is  dead,  passing  from  one  phase 
to  another  like  the  sequence  of  spring,  summer, 
autumn,  and  winter.  And  while  she  is  thus  lying 
asleep  in  Eternity,  for  me  to  go  about  weeping  and 
wailing  would  be  to  proclaim  myself  ignorant  of 
these  natural  laws.     Therefore  I  refrain." 

Doubtless  Chuang  Tzu  also  had  temperamental 
preference  for  the  principles  which  he  held,  —  and 
loved  his  freedom.  He  "was  fishing  in  the  Pu 
when  the  prince  of  Chu  sent  two  high  officials  to 
ask  him  to  take  charge  of  the  Chu  State.  Chuang 
Tzu  went  on  fishing,  and  without  turning  his  head 
said,  *I  have  heard  that  in  Chu  there  is  a  sacred 
tortoise  which  has  been  dead  some  three  thousand 
years,  and  that  the  prince  keeps  this  tortoise  care- 
fully enclosed  in  a  chest  on  the  altar  of  his  ancestral 
temple.  Now  would  this  tortoise  rather  be  dead 
and  have  its  remains  venerated,  or  be  alive  and 
wagging  its  tail  in  the  mud  ?' 


38  DELIVERANCE 

"'It  would  rather  be  alive,'  replied  the  two 
officials,  *and  wagging  its  tail  in  the  mud/ 

"*  Begone  !'  cried  Chuang  Tzu.  *I  too  will  wag 
my  tail  in  the  mud/" 

Likewise  Lao  Tzu  (in  Chuang  Tzu's  book)  shows 
explosively  that  virtue  lies  deeper  than  practice : 
"Confucius  visited  Lao  Tzu,  and  spoke  of  charity 
and  duty  to  one's  neighbour.  Lao  Tzu  said,  *The 
chafF  from  winnowing  will  blind  a  man's  eyes  so 
that  he  cannot  tell  the  north  from  south.  Mos- 
quitoes will  keep  a  man  awake  all  night  with  their 
biting.  And  just  in  the  same  way  this  talk  of 
charity  and  duty  to  one's  neighbour  drives  me  nearly 
crazy.  Sir !  I  strive  to  keep  the  world  to  its  own 
original  simplicity.  And  as  the  wind  bloweth  where 
it  listeth,  so  let  Virtue  establish  itself.  Wherefore 
such  undue  energy,  as  though  searching  for  a  fugi- 
tive with  a  big  drum  ?'" 

These  philosophers  not  only  believed,  but  reasoned 
in  accordance  with  their  principles,  that  "for  the 
perfect  man  who  is  unavoidably  summoned  to  power, 
there  is  naught  like  Inaction.^*  This  is  how  Chuang 
Tzu  has  Lao  Tzu  put  it,  when  asked  how  men's 
hearts  are  to  be  kept  in  order  without  government : 
"Be  careful,"  replied  Lao  Tzu,  "not  to  interfere 
with  the  natural  goodness  of  the  heart  of  man. 
Man's  heart  may  be  forced  down  or  stirred  up.  In 
each  case  the  issue  is  fatal.  By  gentleness,  the 
hardest  heart  may  be  softened.     But  try  to  cut  and 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  39 

polish  It,  —  'twill  glow  like  fire  or  freeze  like  ice. 
In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  it  will  pass  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  Four  Seas.  No  bolt  can  bar,  no  bond 
can  bind,  —  such  is  the  human  heart. 

"Of  old,  the  Yellow  Emperor  first  caused  charity 
and  duty  to  one's  neighbour  to  interfere  with  the 
natural  goodness  of  the  heart  of  man.  In  conse- 
quence of  which,  Yao  and  Shun  wore  the  hair  off 
their  legs  in  endeavouring  to  feed  their  people. 
They  disturbed  their  internal  economy  in  order  to 
find  room  for  charity  and  duty  to  one's  neighbour. 
They  exhausted  their  energies  in  framing  laws  and 
statutes.  Still  they  did  not  succeed."  They  en- 
deavoured to  coerce  evil  men,  but  the  Empire  con- 
tinued in  unrest.  "By  and  by  the  Confucianists 
and  the  Mihists  [another  very  moral  sect]  arose; 
and  then  came  exultation,  and  anger  of  rivals, 
fraud  between  the  simple  and  the  cunning,  recrimi- 
nation between  the  virtuous  and  the  evil,  slander 
between  the  honest  and  the  dishonest,  until  deca- 
dence set  in,  men  fell  away  from  their  original  virtue, 
their  natures  became  corrupt,  and  there  was  a  general 
rush  for  knowledge. 

"The  next  thing  was  to  coerce  by  all  kinds  of 
physical  torture,  thus  bringing  utter  confusion  into 
the  Empire,  the  blame  for  which  rests  upon  those 
who  would  interfere  with  the  natural  goodness  of 
the  heart  of  man.  In  consequence,  virtuous  men 
sought  refuge  in  mountain  caves,  while  rulers  of 


40  DELIVERANCE 

States  sat  trembling  in  their  ancestral  halls.  Then 
when  dead  men  lay  about  pillowed  on  each  other's 
corpses,  when  cangued  prisoners  and  condemned 
criminals  jostled  each  other  in  crowds,  then  the 
Confucianists  and  the  Mihists,  in  the  midst  of 
gyves  and  fetters,  stood  forth  to  preach!  .  .  . 
Therefore  I  said,  abandon  wisdom  and  discard 
knowledge,  and  the  Empire  will  be  at  peace." 

Our  old  friend  Lao  Tzu  had  a  fit  disciple,  who 
"alone  had  attained  to  the  Tao  of  his  master.  He 
lived  up  north  on  the  Wei-lei  Mountains.  Of  his 
attendants  he  dismissed  those  who  were  systemati- 
cally clever  or  conventionally  charitable.  The 
useless  remained  with  him ;  the  incompetent  served 
him.  And  in  three  years  the  district  of  Wei-lei 
was  greatly  benefited." 

A  final  statement  of  the  matter  perhaps  is  touched 
with  a  sHght  sneer:  "The  difficulty  of  governing 
lies  in  the  inability  to  practise  self-effacement." 

Likewise  for  the  individual;  let  him  too  prac- 
tise self-effacement,  efFacement,  that  is  to  say,  of 
particular  desires,  passions,  anxieties,  and  efforts. 
Chuang  Tzu  illuminates  this  with  one  of  his  best 
narrative-disquisitions :  A  wise  man  with  an  un- 
rememberable  name  "paid  a  visit  to  the  prince  of 
Lu.  The  latter  wore  a  melancholy  look;  where- 
upon the  philosopher  inquired  what  was  the  cause. 

"*I  study  the  doctrines  of  the  ancient  Sages,' 
replied  the  prince,  *  I  carry  on  the  work  of  my  pred- 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  41 

ecessors.  I  respect  religion.  I  honour  the  good. 
Never  for  a  moment  do  I  relax  in  these  points ;  yet 
I  cannot  avoid  misfortune,  and  consequently  I  am 
sad.' 

"*Your  Highness*  method  of  avoiding  misfor- 
tune/ said  the  philosopher,  *is  but  a  shallow  one.' 
A  handsome  fox  or  a  striped  leopard  will  live  in  a 
mountain  forest,  hiding  beneath  some  clifF.  This 
is  their  repose.  They  come  out  by  night  and  keep 
in  by  day.  This  is  their  caution.  Though  under 
the  stress  of  hunger  and  thirst,  they  lie  hidden, 
hardly  venturing  to  slink  to  the  river  bank  in  search 
of  food.  This  is  their  resoluteness.  Nevertheless, 
they  do  not  escape  the  misfortune  of  the  net  and  the 
trap.  But  what  crime  have  they  committed  .? 
'Tis  their  skin  which  is  the  cause  of  their  trouble; 
and  is  not  the  State  of  Lu  your  Highness'  skin  ?  I 
would  have  your  Highness  put  away  body  and  skin 
alike,  and  cleansing  your  heart  and  purging  it  of 
passion,  betake  yourself  to  the  land  where  mortality 
is  not  {i.e.  Tao).  .  .  .  Thither  would  I  have  your 
Highness  proceed,  power  discarded,  and  the  world 
left  behind,  only  putting  trust  in  Tao.* 

"'The  road  is  long  and  dangerous,'  said  the 
prince.  'Rivers  and  hills  to  be  crossed,  and  I  with- 
out boat  or  chariot;  —  what  then  .?* 

"'Unhindered  by  body  and  unfettered  in  mind, 
your  Highness  will  be  a  chariot  to  yourself.* 

"*But  the  road  is  long  and  dreary,  and  unin- 


42  DELIVERANCE 

habited.  I  shall  have  no  one  to  turn  to  for  help; 
and  how,  without  food,  shall  I  ever  be  able  to  get 
there?'" 

"*  Decrease  expenditure  (of  energy)  and  lessen 
desires,'  answered  the  philosopher,  *  and  even  though 
without  provisions,  there  will  be  enough.  And 
then  through  river  and  over  sea  your  Highness  will 
travel  into  shoreless  illimitable  space.  From  the 
borderland,  those  who  act  as  escort  will  return; 
but  thence  onwards  your  Highness  will  travel  far. 
It  is  the  human  in  ourselves  which  is  our  hindrance ; 
and  the  human  in  others  which  causes  sorrow. 
And  I  would  have  your  Highness  put  off  this  hin- 
drance and  rid  yourself  of  this  sorrow,  and  roam 
with  Tao  alone  through  the  realms  of  Infinite 
Nought.'" 

It  is  also  taught  consistently  in  Chuang  Tzu's 
book  that  neither  man's  life  nor  his  individuality 
is  his  own,  being  in  either  case  the  delegated  har- 
mony and  adaptability  of  the  spiritual  powers  con- 
stituting it. 

"Man  passes  through  this  sublunary  life  as  a 
white  horse  passes  a  crack.  Here  one  moment, 
gone  the  next.  One  modification  brings  life;  then 
another,  and  it  is  death.  Living  creatures  cry  out ; 
human  beings  sorrow.  The  bow-sheath  is  slipped 
off;  the  clothes-bag  is  dropped ;  and  in  the  con- 
fusion the  soul  wings  its  flight,  and  the  body  fol- 
lows, on  the  great  journey  homel 


DUTY  AND   DETACHMENT  43 

**The  reality  of  the  formless,  the  unreality  of 
that  which  has  form,  —  this  is  known  to  all.  Those 
who  are  on  the  road  to  attainment  care  not  for  these 
things,  but  the  people  at  large  discuss  them.  At- 
tainment implies  non-discussion  !  Manifested,  Tao 
has  no  objective  value ;  hence  silence  is  better  than 
argument.  It  cannot  be  translated  into  speech; 
better,  then,  say  nothing  at  all.  This  is  called  the 
great  attainment." 

Much  of  this  argumentation,  if  such  it  be,  or 
personal  adjustment,  has  meaning  and  appeal,  or 
has  it  not,  according  as  one  may  take  it,  or  perhaps, 
according  as  one  is  constituted.  Thus  it  may  be 
either  appealing  or  foolish.  The  way  lies  near  to 
an  exposition  of  the  real  Self  which  might  seem  to 
have  come  out  of  the  Indian  Upanishads :  "That 
Self  is  eternal ;  yet  all  men  think  it  mortal ;  That 
Self  is  infinite ;  yet  all  men  think  it  finite.  Those 
who  possess  Tao  are  princes  in  this  life  and  rulers 
in  the  hereafter.  Those  who  do  not  possess  Tao 
behold  the  light  of  day  in  this  life,  and  become 
clods  of  earth  in  the  hereafter." 

One  sees  that  Chuang  Tzu's  philosophy  is  held 
within  his  adjustment  with  life.  The  philosopher 
himself  is  still  human,  can  recognize  half  humorously 
his  own  imbecility  and  occasional  falling  away  from 
his  principles,  as  in  this  story:  Wandering  in  a 
park,  he  saw  a  strange  bird  with  great  wings,  which 
flew  close  past  his  head  to  alight  in  a  chestnut  grove. 


44  DELIVERANCE 

"What  manner  of  bird  is  this  ?"  cried  Chuang 
Tzu.  "With  strong  wings  it  does  not  fly  away; 
with  large  eyes  it  does  not  see." 

So  he  picked  up  his  skirts  and  strode  towards 
it  with  his  cross-bow,  anxious  to  get  a  shot.  Just 
then  he  saw  a  cicada  enjoying  itself  in  the  shade, 
forgetful  of  all  else.  And  he  saw  a  mantis  spring 
and  seize  it,  forgetting  in  its  act  its  own  body, 
which  the  strange  bird  immediately  pounced  upon 
and  made  its  prey.  And  this  it  was  which  had 
caused  the  bird  to  forget  its  own  nature. 

"Alas  !"  cried  Chuang  Tzu  with  a  sigh,  "how 
creatures  injure  one  another.  Loss  follows  the  pur- 
suit of  gain."  So  he  laid  aside  his  bow  and  went 
home,  driven  away  by  the  parkkeeper,  who  wanted 
to  know  what  business  he  had  there. 

After  this  he  did  not  quit  his  house  for  three 
months,  till  a  disciple,  wondering,  asked  why. 
"While  keeping  my  physical  frame,"  replied  Chuang 
Tzu,  "I  lost  sight  of  my  real  self.  Gazing  at  muddy 
water,  I  lost  sight  of  the  clear  abyss.  Now  when  I 
strolled  into  the  park,  I  forgot  my  real  self.  That 
strange  bird  which  flew  close  past  me  to  the  chest- 
nut grove,  forgot  its  nature.  The  keeper  of  the 
chestnut  grove  took  me  for  a  thief.  Consequently 
I  have  not  been  out." 

No,  he  had  rather  dwell  within  his  house,  within 
himself.  How  clearly  he  could  lay  aside  non- 
essentials and  cast  himself  upon  the  elements  of  his 


DUTY  AND  DETACHMENT  45 

being,  is  shown  in  the  final  scene:  "When  Chuang 
Tzu  was  about  to  die,  his  disciples  expressed  a 
wish  to  give  him  a  splendid  funeral.  But  Chuang 
Tzu  said,  'With  Heaven  and  Earth  for  my  coffin 
and  shell,  with  the  sun,  moon  and  stars  as  my  burial 
regalia;  and  with  all  creation  to  escort  me  to  the 
grave,  —  are  not  my  funeral  paraphernalia  ready  to 
hand  ?' 

"'We  fear,'  argued  the  disciples,  'lest  the  carrion 
kite  should  eat  the  body  of  our  master';  to  which, 
Chuang  Tzu  replied,  'Above  ground,  I  shall  be 
food  for  kites;  below,  I  shall  be  food  for  mole- 
crickets  and  ants.     Why  rob  one  to  feed  the  other  ?' " 

Thus  it  was  for  this  man  who  knew:  "Birth 
is  not  a  beginning;  death  is  not  an  end.  There 
is  existence  without  limitation;  there  is  continuity 
without  a  starting  point.  Existence  without  limi- 
tation is  Space.  Continuity  without  a  starting 
point  is  Time.  There  is  birth,  there  is  death,  there 
is  issuing  forth,  there  is  entering  in.  That  through 
which  one  passes  in  and  out  without  seeing  its  form, 
that  is  the  Portal  of  God  —  which  is  non-existence, 
from  which  all  things  spring." 

As  certain  also  of  your  own  poets  have  said : 
"  Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting." 


CHAPTER  III 

The  Indian  Annihilation  of  Individuality 

TNDIAN  thinking  is  driven  by  a  temperamental 
-"-  need  of  adjustment  with  the  Infinite,  and  by  a 
temperamental  aversion  for  the  incessant  round  of 
life  and  death.  The  adjustments  attained  were 
shaped  through  a  tenacious  dialectic;  yet  they 
were  impelled  by  the  Indian  yearning  for  emanci- 
pation from  impermanence  and  recurrent  death. 
By  the  close  of  the  fifth  century  before  Christ, 
cognate  and  complementary  solutions  had  been 
reached,  which  were  religious  and  also  metaphysical. 
These  solutions  affected  the  spiritual  destinies  of 
Asia.  They  were,  moreover,  in  their  intellectual 
bearings  representative  of  the  opposite  positions 
regarding  men  and  things  in  which  philosophers  in 
various  lands  have  always  tended  to  range  them- 
selves. The  Brahman-Atman  doctrines  of  the 
Upanishads  and  the  teachings  of  Buddhism  which 
seemingly  rose  out  of  them,  by  the  way  of  dissent  if 
not  of  revolution,  present  opposite  poles  of  thought. 
The  Brahman  pole  points  to  an  Absolute  All-One, 
empirically  unknowable,  but  felt  religiously,  and  dem- 
onstrated  as  metaphysical  verity.     Vaguely  it  was 

46 


ANNIHILATION  OF  INDIVIDUALITY  47 

to  be  lived  unto  as  a  religious  goal,  and  patterned 
upon  as  a  norm  of  conduct.  The  Buddhist  solution 
refused  assent  to  any  Absolute,  which  of  a  cer- 
tainty could  not  be  found  in  the  changing  world 
and  the  passing  experience  of  man. 

Yet  transience  and  change  were  as  intolerable  to 
one  Indian  phase  of  thought  as  to  the  other;  and 
the  Buddha  preaches  emancipation  from  phe- 
nomenal life  as  earnestly  as  if  behind  there  lay  an 
Absolute  instead  of  Nought.  But  these  opposite 
poles  in  India  are  not  in  all  respects  distinguishable. 
The  Absolute  of  the  Upanishads  does  not  differ 
practically  from  Nought,  but  only  metaphysically. 
In  other  systems,  however,  away  from  India, 
Being  or  the  Supreme  Being  is  the  antithesis  of 
Nought  in  many  further  modes,  and  one  may  fruit- 
fully reflect  upon  the  different  motives,  the  differ- 
ent processes,  and  the  different  goals  of  supreme 
desire,  or  its  seeming  renunciation,  which  have 
drawn  men  to  one  conclusion  or  the  other  in  com- 
pany, shall  we  say,  with  Yajnavalkya  or  Gotama, 
with  Plato  or  Heracleitus,  with  Christ  or  with 
Apollyon. 

There  have  always  been  men  to  despise  or  con- 
demn the  lures  of  life,  although  their  condemnation 
has  proceeded  along  different  lines  of  misprisal. 
Some  have  been  moved  by  fear  of  sin,  some  by  the 
sorrow  of  impermanence,  and  some  by  contempt 
for  whatever  does  not  share  in  the  steadfastness  of 


48  DELIVERANCE 

the  conceptions  of  the  mind.  The  Indian  mis- 
prisal  united  the  last  two  reasons,  and  was  a  thing 
of  mood  as  well  as  thought.  Conversely,  the  higher 
Indian  modes  of  spiritual  freedom  were  harmonies 
of  mood  and  argument. 

After  what  one  is  prone  to  call  the  Vedic  age  of 
probable  Aryan  advance  and  conquest  in  India, 
the  thoughtful  men  of  the  succeeding  generations 
gave  themselves  over  to  profound,  if  not  the  happiest, 
meditation.  The  remark  of  the  Greek  observer 
Megasthenes,  who  visited  India  in  the  train  of 
Alexander,  that  the  Indian  sages,  —  forest  dwellers 
he  calls  them  —  think  much  on  death,  would  have 
applied  centuries  before  his  time.  Many  of  those 
temperamentally  motived  philosophic  treatises  which 
are  called  Upanishads  and  are  attached  as  appen- 
dices and  reconsiderations  to  the  Vedic  literature, 
are  earlier  than  the  fifth  century  before  Christy 
presumably  and  probably,  for  dates  are  never  cer- 
tain in  India.  They  consider  death  inordinately  (as 
we  might  say,  if  we  chose  to  forget  our  own  monkish 
literature),  and  present  the  ancient  Brahmanical 
adjustment  of  the  human  spirit  —  with  life  and 
the  universe  ?  yes,  perhaps ;  but  it  were  more  to 
the  point  to  speak  of  this  adjustment  as  an  emanci- 
pation of  the  soul  from  death,  and  constantly  re- 
curring death. 

To  anyone  who  would  extract  a  system  from 
them,  these  Upanishads  will  prove  tangled  paths. 


ANNIHILATION  OF  INDIVIDUALITY  49 

Yet  the  topics  of  discussion  throughout  are  much 
the  same,  and  the  general  tenor  of  the  solutions. 
There  is  frequent  dialogue,  question  and  answer, 
with  youchs  and  kings  and  Brahmans  for  speakers. 
It  would  be  interesting,  were  it  justifiable,  to  attach 
the  argumentation  to  the  name  of  some  ancient  and 
dramatic  Brahman,  like  Yajnavalkya.  And  per- 
haps it  may  be  well  to  follow  closely  some  instance 
of  his  dramatic  arguments,  if  only  to  illustrate 
vividly  the  point  that  the  Upanishads  form  a  huge 
attempt,  or  series  of  attempts,  to  bring  peace  and 
freedom  to  the  anxious  human  spirit,  emancipate 
the  soul  from  death,  and  possibly  win  for  it  eternal 
felicity. 

Belief  in  the  transmigration  of  souls  is  either 
inculcated  or  assumed.  Therefore  the  soul  has  to 
be  freed  from  its  torment  of  rebirth  and  redeath. 
This  goal  is  reached  through  mazes  of  symbolism 
and  metaphysics  intended  to  establish  the  Absolute 
All-One,  and  identify  the  Soul,  the  Self,  with  It,  — 
the  Atman  with  Brahman.  For  the  Atman  is  this 
Absolute  Self  within  each  one  of  us,  if  we  will  but 
know  it ;  and  Brahma,  a  word  which  in  the  Vedas 
had  meant  prayer,  has  at  length  through  turns  of 
monstrous  symbolism  and  subjectivity,  been  trans- 
formed to  that  prayer  which  has  worked  its  own 
fulfilment,  which  has  not  merely  reached  but  has 
become  its  own  uttermost  desire,  the  unchanging 
and    imperishable    Absolute.     The    Self   is    That; 


50  DELIVERANCE 

That  is  the  Self;  and  beyond  it  there  is  Nought; 
only  Maya,  the  delusion  of  Name  and  Form. 

This  Absolute  is  to  be  attained  through  enlighten- 
ment; by  knowing  it  and  desiring  nothing  else. 
But  can  it  be  known  }  Yes  and  no.  It  cannot  be 
known  by  observation,  perhaps  not  in  consciousness 
in  any  way.  Will  the  path  of  cumulative  predica- 
tion lead  to  It .?  —  It  is  this,  and  that  and  every- 
thing, the  One  within  the  Many:  and  this,  and 
that,  and  everything  art  Thou.  Negation  may 
prove  the  surer  way;  for  neither  that,  nor  this  nor 
anything  is  It.  It  cannot  be  known  through  rest- 
less tossings,  but  only  dreamlessly.  Where  then  is 
consciousness  ?  Has  that  too  vanished  in  this 
dreamless  knowledge  ?  He  who  has  realized  Brah- 
man, and  that  the  Self  is  It,  for  him  there  will  be 
no  desire  in  this  life,  and  no  rebirth  unto  redeath; 
for  him  it  will  be  true,  as  Yajnavalkya  declares  r 
"There  is  no  consciousness  after  death." 

Listen  to  Yajnavalkya  speaking  with  his  wife 
Maitreyi,  as  he  is  about  to  enter  the  final  seclusion 
of  the  forest ;  he  will  divide  his  goods  between  her 
and  another  wife.  Maitreyi  stops  him:  "If  the 
wealth  of  the  whole  earth  belonged  to  me,  would  it 
make  me  immortal  ? " 

"No,"  replied  Yajnavalkya,V'like  the  life  of  rich 
people  will  be  thy  life;  there  is  no  hope  of  im- 
mortality by  wealth." 

"What  should  I  do  with  that  by  which  I  do  not 


ANNIHILATION  OF  INDIVIDUALITY  51 

become  immortal  ?  That  which  my  Lord  knoweth, 
tell  to  me." 

Yajnavalkya  replied:  "Come,  thou  that  art 
truly  dear  to  me,  sit  down  and  I  will  explain  it  to 
thee.  Verily  a  husband  is  dear  not  for  the  hus- 
band's sake,  but  for  the  SelPs  sake:  likewise  wife, 
sons,  kingdoms,  the  world  and  all  the  gods,  these 
are  dear,  not  for  their  own,  but  for  the  SelPs  sake ; 
in  order  that  thou  mayest  love  the  Self  alone.  We 
should  meditate  upon  the  Self.  He  who  has  seen, 
heard  and  known  the  Self,  knows  the  Universe. 
He  who  looks  for  anything  save  in  the  Self  will  be 
deluded,  —  as  if  he  should  seek  for  the  notes  of 
lute  or  drum  beyond  the  instrument  producing 
them  !  And  as  when  a  fire  is  laid  with  damp  wood, 
clouds  of  smoke  are  spread  around,  so  from  this 
great  Being  has  all  knowledge  and  doctrine  been 
breathed  forth.  It  is  the  meeting-place  of  all 
forms,  as  waters  meet  in  the  ocean,  sounds  in  the 
ear,  colours  in  the  eye,  and  perceptions  in  the  mind. 
And  as  a  lump  of  salt,  dissolved  in  water,  cannot  be 
taken  out,  and  the  water  will  always  taste  salt,  so 
this  great  Being  which  is  all  knowledge,  vanishes  in 
the  elements  from  which  it  rises.  There  is  no  con- 
sciousness after  death." 

"Now  thou  hast  bewildered  me,"  said  Maitreyi. 

"O  Maitreyi,  I  say  nothing  that  is  bewildering. 
For  when  there  is  as  it  were  duality,  then  one  sees 
the  other,  one  smells  the  other,  one  hears  the  other, 


52  DELIVERANCE 

one  salutes  the  other,  one  perceives  and  knows  the 
other.  But  when  the  Self  is  all  this,  how  should 
He  see  another,  hear  another,  salute  another,  or 
perceive  and  know  another  ?  How  should  He 
know  Him  by  whom  He  knows  all  this  ?  That 
Self  is  to  be  described  by  No,  No !  He  is  incom- 
prehensible, for  he  cannot  be  comprehended;  he 
cannot  perish;  he  does  not  attach  himself;  un- 
fettered, he  does  not  suffer.  How,  O  beloved,  should 
he  know  the  knower  ?  Thus,  O  Maitreyi,  thou  hast 
been  instructed."  When  he  had  thus  spoken, 
Yajnavalkya  went  away  into  the  forest.^ 

Note  the  "as  it  were"  of  this  last  passage  — 
duality,  manifoldness,  only  as  it  were,  not  really. 
The  Atman-Brahman  is  the  sole  reality;  it  is  the 
All;  it  is  free  from  desire,  it  is  also  essentially  un- 
knowable, for  it  is  You.  Knowledge  of  this  is  in 
itself  emancipation,  and  looses  the  soul  from  the 
delusions  of  rebirth.  "He  who  is  without  desire, 
desire  having  been  laid  to  rest,  is  himself  his  own 
desire  —  he  is  Brahman."     So  spake  Yajnavalkya. 

The  Upanishads  throughout  their  repetitious  in- 
volutions do  not  flinch  from  the  principle  of  eman- 
cipation through  non-desire.  Yet  they  seem  to 
flicker  down  from  these  pale  heights  of  Yajnavalkya ; 
and  through   concessions  to  the  insistent  calls  of 

*  Condensed  from  Brihadaranyaka-Upantshadyll,  4  and  IV,  5, 
mainly  as  rendered  by  Max  Miiller,  Sacred  Books  of  the  East,  Vol. 
XV,  with  emendations  from  Deussen. 


ANNIHILATION  OF  INDIVIDUALITY  53 

empirical  knowledge,  the  Atman-Brahman  becomes 
more  active,  more  cosmogonic  if  one  will,  and  more 
knowable.  It  fills  the  roles  of  Creator,  Preserver, 
and  Destroyer  —  "the  womb  of  nature  and  perhaps 
her  grave."  "At  the  bidding  of  this  imperishable 
one,  O  Gargi  (again  speaks  Yajnavalkya)  sun  and 
moon  are  kept  asunder,  heaven  and  earth  are  kept 
asunder;  the  minutes  and  the  hours  are  kept 
asunder,  the  days  and  nights,  the  months  and 
seasons  and  the  years.  At  the  bidding  of  this  im- 
perishable one,  O  Gargi,  the  streams  run  from  the 
snow  mountains,  some  to  the  east  and  some  to  the 
west,  whithersoever  each  goes.  At  the  bidding  of 
this  imperishable  one,  men  praise  the  bountiful 
givers,  the  gods  desire  the  sacrificer,  the  fathers  the 
offerings  to  the  dead."  ^ 

It  is  thus  that  to  the  high  strain  of  that  adjust- 
ment which  lies  in  the  dreamless  Unity  of  the  Abso- 
lute, the  Upanishads  add  props  and  comfortings, 
sops  to  the  insistent  barkings  of  man's  actual  en- 
vironment. Yet  they  still  teach  unwaveringly  the 
emancipation  lying  in  detachment  and  freedom  from 
desire. 

Religion  attaches  itself  by  the  ways  of  hope  and 
aspiration  to  aims  and  objects  which  may  or  may 
not  prove  clear  and  consistent  when  critically 
analysed.     Logic    and    metaphysics,    issuing    from 

^Brih.-Up.  Ill,  8,  9  (Deussen). 


54  DELIVERANCE 

other  phases  of  human  faculty,  are  likely  to  devi- 
talise the  objects  of  religious  yearning.  In  ratioci- 
nation the  religious  impulse  is  checked,  its  emotion 
distracted,  while  the  seamy  sides  of  the  method 
and  Object  of  Religion  are  disclosed.  Other 
emotions,  arising  in  the  progress  of  debate,  may 
confirm  the  combatants'  positions;  but  they  are 
the  emotions  of  conflict.  The  creators  of  religions 
are  those  who  have  voiced  anew  men's  yearnings 
and  given  new  life  to  their  hopes,  and  with  such 
sufficiency  of  definiteness  that  others  could  take  up 
the  impulse  and  echo  its  expression,  —  an  expres- 
sion, an  actualisation,  mark  you,  of  their  own  poten- 
tialities of  aspiration. 

The  most  ancient  Buddhist  writings  are  in  Pali, 
a  language  current  in  parts  of  northern  India  about 
the  time  when  Gotama  lived,  in  the  fifth  or  sixth 
century  before  Christ.  If  they  are  tediously 
dialectical,  they  still  deprecate  the  discussion  of 
whatever  goes  beyond  salvation's  needs ;  and  though 
the  argumentative  form  seems  to  point  backward 
to  the  actual  methods  of  Gotama,  one  may  be  sure 
that  he  brought  again  to  true  expression  those  In- 
dian aspirations  and  those  notes  of  Indian  sorrow 
which  had  been  over  dialecticised  in  the  Upani- 
shads.  A  comfort  deeper  than  argument  drew  men 
to  the  Buddha,  and  evoked  their  cry :  "I  take  refuge 
in  the  Buddha,  in  his  Teaching,  and  in  the  Brother- 
hood."    There  is  in  fact  no  ground  for  questioning 


ANNIHILATION  OF  INDIVIDUALITY  55 

what  is  vouched  for  by  the  concurrence  of  all  the 
early  records  :  that  as  the  adjustment  which  Gotama 
reached  was  reached  through  meditation,  so  he  set 
it  forth  in  the  form  of  reasoned  statements  which 
made  their  own  transforming  and  vitalising  use  of 
the  Brahmanical  argumentation  of  his  time. 

Gotama's  attainment  and  the  whole  content  of 
the  Buddha's  system,  which  from  pity  he  imparted 
to  those  who  were  fit  for  wisdom,  may,  from  our 
point  of  view,  be  bounded  within  the  conception  of 
the  individual's  adjustment  with  life.  The  cir- 
cumstances of  the  attainment  of  this  noble  Sakya 
youth  to  Buddhahood  have  been  told,  usually 
with  an  accumulation  of  myth,  millions  of  times. 
Shall  we  say,  the  tale  is  the  more  impressive 
the  more  nakedly  it  is  presented  in  the  closest 
approximation  to  the  probable  facts  ?  There  is 
profound  absurdity  in  this  idea :  the  probable  facts  ! 
they  were  of  the  spirit  in  its  crisis  and  in  its  prepa- 
ration too.  With  scarcely  less  foolishness  might 
one  seek  for  the  "probable  facts"  of  the  Forty 
Days  in  the  wilderness  or  the  night  upon  Geth- 
semane  !  Possibly  the  myth-making  instinct  of  the 
Buddha's  followers  has  wisely  adorned  the  tale,  in 
order  that  it  might  symbolise  the  ineffable  value  of 
this  achievement  for  mankind.  Alack  !  this  rever- 
ent mythopoesy  is  only  too  apt  to  be  fond  and 
foolish :  in  India  it  has  done  as  foolishly  in  Birth- 
stories  of  the  Buddha's  countless  previous  lives,  as 


56  DELIVERANCE 

it  was  to  do  in  our  apocryphal  Gospels,  filling  out 
the  child-life  of  Jesus  to  accord  with  the  imperative 
silliness  of  the  human  mind.  Only  let  us  be  also 
sure  that  any  attempt  to  discover  the  truth  of 
such  experiences,  through  critical  weighings  of  the 
sources,  is  a  process  likely  to  fool  the  wise  more 
dangerously  than  legends  fool  the  babes. 

Gotama  was  born  and  lived  in  northeastern  India. 
His  temper  was  impregnated  with  the  moods,  and 
his  mind  was  filled  with  the  thoughts,  which  are 
expressed  in  the  Upanishads.  He  was  a  child  of 
the  Indian  discussion  of  the  Absolute  and  Unabso- 
lute,  and  the  Indian  aversion  to  the  phenomena  of 
life.  His  system  drew  its  manner,  its  setting,  most 
of  the  substance  of  its  argument,  —  or  by  repulsion 
its  denials  —  from  the  spiritual  environment  of  its 
founder.  Its  point  of  view,  its  temper,  its  purpose 
are  practically  those  of  Brahmanism.  Said  the 
young  Brahman  to  Death  :  "  Keep  thou  thy  horses, 
keep  dance  and  song  for  thyself.  Shall  we  be  happy 
with  these  things,  seeing  thee  V*  ^  "How  is  there 
laughter,"  says  the  Buddhist,  "how  is  there  joy,  as 
the  world  is  always  burning  .?  Why  do  ye  not  seek 
a  light,  ye  who  are  surrounded  by  darkness  ?  This 
body  is  wasted,  full  of  sickness  and  frail ;  this  heap 
of  corruption  breaks  to  pieces,  life  indeed  ends  in 
death."    "Let  no  man  love  anything;  loss  of  the 

1  Katha-Up.  i,  I,  26. 


ANNIHILATION  OF  INDIVIDUALITY  57 

beloved  is  eviL  Those  who  love  nothing  and  hate 
nothing  have  no  fetters.  From  love  comes  grief, 
from  love  comes  fear;  he  who  is  free  from  love 
knows  neither  grief  nor  fear."  ^  Buddhism,  finally, 
is  at  one  with  Brahman  doctrine,  in  teaching  that 
ignorance  is  the  ground  of  human  misery,  while  in 
knowledge  lies  salvation. 

But  in  its  metaphysics  and  psychology,  Buddhism 
was  revolutionary,  denying  the  Absolute  Brahman 
and  the  Absolute  Self  in  man.  It  was  also  revolution- 
ary in  abjuring  caste  and  abandoning  sacrifices 
along  with  asceticism. 

Who  does  not  know  the  outline  of  external  cir- 
cumstance, fairly  historical,  enveloping  Gotama's 
attainment  to  the  Buddhahood  f  This  highborn 
youth  of  the  Sakya  people  marries,  begets  a  son, 
and  as  the  years  leave  him  the  graver  for  their 
passage,  he  abandons  his  home  and  becomes  an 
ascetic  "in  the  forest."  It  was  not  unusual  for  a 
man  thus  to  seek  detachment  and  salvation;  and 
Gotama  came  in  search  of  this  adjustment. 

He  practised  asceticism,  it  is  said,  for  seven 
years.  Apparently  gaining  no  help  from  his  aus- 
terities, he  stopped  them.  At  this  evident  relapse, 
five  ascetics  who  had  been  his  followers  left  him  — 
alone.  One  night  he  perceived,  we  are  told,  the 
universal  principle  of  the  causation  and  dependency 

^  Dhammapada,  146,  148,  211,  215. 


58  DELIVERANCE 

of  all  phenomena  relating  to  man,  or  constituting 
states  of  human  consciousness ;  thereupon  realising 
the  pain  of  everything  pertaining  to  individual  life, 
he  was  loosed  from  the  craving  which  is  sorrow, 
and  entails  rebirth.  This  was  his  adjustment. 
Having  attained  the  peace  of  complete  enlighten- 
ment, he  became  the  Buddha,  or  as  he  later  called 
himself,  the  Tathagata  —  the  perfected  one. 

Gotama's  adjustment  with  life,  the  enlightenment 
through  which  he  became  the  Buddha,  consisted  of 
this  principle  of  dependency  and  causation,  and  of 
the  contents  of  the  more  practical  working  formulae 
of  the  Eightfold  Path  and  the  Four  Noble  Truths. 
The  Eightfold  Path  and  the  Four  Truths,  according 
to  the  concurrent  testimony  of  the  early  records, 
made  the  kernel  of  his  teaching  when  addressing 
those  whose  minds  were  open.  When  they  had 
received  this  instruction,  he  would  impart  more 
fundamentally  the  difficult  principle  of  causation 
and  dependency.  To  the  intellectual  mood  of 
which  Buddha  was  the  exponent,  everything  em- 
braced within  the  cravings  of  individuality,  in  fact 
all  states  of  human  consciousness,  were  painful; 
blessedness  lay  in  release :  that  was  Salvation.  It 
was  this  path  of  happy  release  which  he  set  forth 
to  his  disciples,  and  upon  which  he  himself  had 
entered  by  the  way  of  the  principle  of  causation 
and  dependency.  This  expressed  his  understand- 
ing of  life's  painful  round  —  the  giro  of  conscious- 


ANNIHILATION  OF  INDIVIDUALITY  59 

ness  —  and  the  manner  of  release.  Let  us  therefore 
consider  it,  before  referring  to  the  embodiment  of 
the  teacher's  doctrine  in  his  current  preaching. 

Buddha  did  not  state  his  principle  of  causation 
in  the  categories  of  western  thinking,  nor  did  he 
ever  expound  it  in  a  way  that  we  can  deem  satis- 
factory. Attempts  to  present  it  to  our  minds  seem 
to  become  more  futile  as  they  become  more  analytic 
and  explicit.  One  may  as  well  admit  that  it  can- 
not be  made  quite  clear,  nor  accommodated  to  our 
ways  of  thinking,  without  introducing  much  that 
the  Buddha  did  not  intend.  But  at  all  events  the 
scheme  is  striking,  and  impresses  where  it  may  not 
convince  or  satisfy. 

Gotama  did  not  learn  of  pain  in  the  forest,  for 
the  realisation  of  it  had  driven  him  from  his  home. 
In  the  forest,  he  gained  insight  into  the  way  of  its 
origin  and  cessation.  But  since  all  life  was  filled 
with  pain,  insight  into  its  origin  and  cessation  in- 
volved enlightenment  as  to  the  origin  and  cessation 
of  all  experience  entering  human  consciousness. 
So  questions  of  origination,  coming  to  pass,  becom- 
ing, of  passing  away,  cessation,  and  release,  pressed 
on  his  mind ;  the  solution  raised  Gotama  to  Buddha- 
hood.     Here  it  is  —  in  its  Englished  inexpressibility. 

"In  dependence  upon  ignorance  arise  the  San- 
khara  (conformations,  Gestaltungen,  a  term  which 
will  fit  itself  into  no  single  European  word  —  or 
many  European  words) ;   in  dependence  upon  them 


6o  DELIVERANCE 

arises  consciousness;  in  dependence  upon  con- 
sciousness arise  name  and  corporeal  form  (or  mind 
and  body) ;  from  name  and  form  spring  the  six 
fields  (i.e.  the  senses,  which  include  thought  as  a 
sixth) ;  from  them  comes  contact  (between  the 
senses  and  their  objects) ;  from  contact  springs  sen- 
sation (or  feeling) ;  from  sensation  springs  thirst 
(or  desire)  ;  from  thirst  springs  grasping  or  clinging 
(to  individual  existence) ;  from  grasping  springs 
becoming  (or  possibly  the  predisposition  to  becom- 
ing) ;  from  that  comes  birth  (perhaps  rather  re- 
birth) ;  and  in  dependence  upon  birth  follow  old 
age  and  death,  grief,  lamentation,  suffering,  dejec- 
tion and  despair.  Such  is  the  origin  of  the  whole 
realm  of  pain." 

This  being  the  origin  of  pain,  release  lay  in  the 
counter  truth ;  and  thus  the  Buddha  supplemented 
his  principle  of  dependent  origination  by  that  of 
cessation  on  the  removal  of  the  cause:  "But,  if 
ignorance  be  removed  through  the  complete  de- 
struction of  desire,  this  effects  a  removal  of  the 
Sankhara;  through  their  removal,  consciousness 
ceases ;  by  the  cessation  of  consciousness,  name  and 
form  will  cease;  thereupon  the  fields  of  sense  fall 
away;  then  there  is  no  contact,  sensation  ceases, 
thirst  is  destroyed  and  with  it  falls  the  grasping 
after  existence;  thereupon  becoming  ceases  and 
birth  (or  rebirth) ;  and  old  age  and  death  and  the 
whole  realm  of  sorrow  are  destroyed." 


ANNIHILATION  OF  INDIVIDUALITY  6l 

Again  be  it  said,  it  is  futile  to  discuss  the  incidents 
of  this  scheme  of  causal  or  conditioned  taking  place; 
there  is,  as  will  be  seen,  no  being  in  it.  But  we  may 
realise  that  Gotama,  affected  by  current  doctrines 
of  transmigration,  did  not  think  of  any  life  as 
beginning  at  birth  and  ending  at  death;  and  we 
shall  fail  to  understand  this  causal  scheme  unless 
we  feel  it  lapping  over  from  one  living  to  the  next. 
In  Brahmanism  that  which  passes  over  is  the  soul 
held  in  the  destiny  of  its  desires  and  deeds.  In 
Buddhism  this  entity  of  soul  is  dissipated,  and  it  is 
the  power  of  the  act  (Karma)  which  carries  over, 
and  somehow  impregnates  a  new  consciousness  and 
imposes  itself  upon  name  and  form  anew.  The 
"ignorance"  appearing  as  the  first  in  the  chain  of 
evil,  means  ignorance  of  the  Buddha's  teachings, 
especially  as  set  forth  in  the  Eightfold  Path  and  the 
Four  Noble  Truths. 

The  early  stories  tell  of  the  Buddha's  hesitancy 
to  impart  to  purblind  men  the  adjustment  which 
had  brought  him  peace  at  last,  after  such  years  of 
meditation.  At  last  from  goodness,  from  pity,  or 
from  a  complexity  of  benignant  or  functional 
motives  escaping  our  analysis,  and  difficult  for  us  to 
reconcile  with  Buddha's  doctrine,  he  decides  to 
preach.  So  he  sets  out  to  instruct  those  five  ascet- 
ics who  had  been  his  followers  until  repelled  by 
his  abandonment  of  asceticism.  Perhaps  in  view 
of  their  cavillings,  this  famous  sermon  of  the  eight- 


62  DELIVERANCE 

fold  path  and  four  truths,  first  spoken  as  men  say 
in  the  deer-park  Isapatana  at  Benares,  is,  in  some 
versions,  made  to  open  thus : 

"There  are  two  extremes  which  he  who  has 
given  up  the  world  ought  to  avoid :  a  life  given  to 
pleasures  and  lusts,  which  is  degrading,  sensual, 
vulgar  and  profitless ;  and  a  life  given  to  mortifica- 
tions, which  is  painful,  ignoble  and  profitless.  By- 
avoiding  these  two  extremes  the  Tathagata  has 
gained  knowledge  of  the  Middle  Path,  which  leads 
to  insight  and  wisdom,  to  peace  and  to  Nirvana. 
It  is  the  way  to  the  abatement  of  suffering,  the  Holy 
Eightfold  Path  of  Right  BeHef,  Right  Decision, 
Right  Speech,  Right  Act,  Right  Life,  Right  En- 
deavour, Right  Thought,  and  Right  Meditation. 

"This,  ye  Monks,  is  the  noble  truth  of  suflFering: 
Birth  is  suffering,  age  is  suffering,  sickness  is  suffer- 
ing, death  is  suffering,  the  presence  of  the  unloved, 
the  absence  of  the  loved,  is  suffering,  not  to  obtain 
our  desire  is  suffering;  in  fine,  the  fivefold  clinging 
to  existence  is  suffering. 

"This,  ye  monks,  is  the  noble  truth  of  the  Origin 
of  Suffering :  it  is  the  thirst  that  leads  from  rebirth 
to  rebirth,  with  pleasure  and  lust  finding  its  delight 
here  and  there :  thirst  for  pleasure,  for  becoming, 
for  the  transitory. 

"This,  ye  monks,  is  the  holy  truth  of  the  Cessa- 
tion of  Suffering:  the  cessation  of  thirst  through 
the  complete    destruction  of  desire,  letting    it  go, 


ANNIHILATION  OF  INDIVIDUALITY  63 

abjuring  it,  freeing  oneself  from  it,  giving  it  no 
place. 

"This,  ye  monks,  is  the  holy  truth  of  the  Way 
of  the  Cessation  of  Suffering :  it  is  the  Holy  Eight- 
fold Path  of  right  faith,  right  resolve,  right  speech, 
right  act,  right  life,  right  effort,  right  thought,  right 
meditation." 

One  has  here  the  outline  of  the  Buddha's  adjust- 
ment and  calming  of  the  spirit,  into  reconciliation, 
into  peace  made  perfect  —  into  blessedness.  One 
notices,  moreover,  that  his  entire  doctrine,  what  he 
attained  for  himself,  and  what  he  preached  to 
others,  is  essentially  adjustment,  religion  one  may 
call  it.  Gotama  certainly  had  a  mind  of  power. 
Prodigious  mental  effort  was  involved  in  carrying 
through  such  an  analysis  of  the  origination,  depend- 
ence and  extinction  of  the  chain  of  individual  con- 
sciousness, the  virtual  sum  total  of  what  we  know 
and  feel,  what  we  conceivably  have  been  and  are 
becoming.  The  result,  partly  derived,  partly  orig- 
inal, and,  as  a  whole,  constructive,  was  a  law  uni- 
versal and  not  to  be  escaped  from,  the  law  of  the 
effect  or  power  of  the  Act,  whether  mental  or 
realised  in  deeds.  This  reaches  through  all  con- 
scious or  sentient  living,  from  the  insect  to  the  per- 
fected disciple  about  to  attain  Nirvana.  It  was  a 
wonderful  explanatory  scheme  of  the  origin  and 
course  of  individuality,  with  its  cravings  to  realise 
itself  on  and  on;    a  scheme  forming  the  dialectic 


64  DELIVERANCE 

basis  of  the  religion  or  doctrine  of  the  way  to  blessed 
release  from  the  successive  stages  of  an  existence 
made  up  of  suffering. 

Suffering  —  that  is  the  question.  How  does  one 
think  and  feel  about  life  as  he  has  experienced  it .? 
Does  one  like  or  dislike  it  on  the  whole,  feel  it  to  be 
desirable  or  intolerable  ?  Before  Gotama*s  birth 
the  meditative  temper  of  India  had  pronounced 
against  life's  transient  round,  and  had  cast  itself 
upon  the  endeavour  to  construct  a  refuge,  a  state, 
a  being,  freed  from  conditions  of  origination  and 
cessation,  set  beyond  change  and  suffering,  and 
winnowed  from  all  elements  of  becoming.  The 
result  had  been  the  superconscious  Brahman- 
Atman,  the  absolute  being,  and  the  corresponding 
announcement  of  Yajnavalkya,  there  is  no  con- 
sciousness after  death  for  the  completed  and  desire- 
less  sage. 

Gotama  likewise  sought,  and  as  the  Buddha 
attained,  release  from  that  chain  of  individuahty 
and  craving  which  was  suffering,  and  which  was 
also  a  ceaseless  becoming;  but  he  perceived  no 
Absolute  in  which  to  share,  nor  any  sure  unalter 
able  Self.  Consequently  when  the  suffering,  when 
the  becoming,  is  stopped,  is  there  anything  beyond 
the  blessedness  of  release  ? 

If  the  Buddha's  life-adjustment  included  the 
answer  to  this  query,  we  do  not  know  it,  —  he  did 
not  impart  it  to  his  disciples.     He  had  reached  the 


ANNIHILATION  OF  INDIVIDUALITY  65 

way  of  release  from  suffering,  a  path  of  peace, 
which  may  be  entered  on  even  before  death.  He 
refused  to  say  whether  the  Tathagata  and  other 
perfected  ones  would  or  would  not  exist  thereafter. 
Nor  would  he  solve  the  question  of  an  ego  or  no- 
ego,  whether  there  was  any  being  within  the  uni- 
versal process  of  becoming.  Far  less  would  he  enter 
on  a  discussion  as  to  whether  the  world  was  finite 
or  infinite,  eternal  or  perishable.  Such  discussions 
were  as  if  a  man,  shot  with  a  poisoned  arrow,  should 
delay  its  removal  till  he  had  learned  the  name  and 
city  of  him  who  had  drawn  the  bow,  or  whether  the 
arrow  was  feathered  from  the  wings  of  a  hawk  or 
a  vulture.  The  religious  life,  leading  to  the  blessed 
release,  did  not  depend  on  answering  such  questions. 
Sufficeth  to  know  how  bodily  form  arises  and 
perishes,  how  sensation,  perception,  predispositions, 
and  consciousness  arise,  and  how  they  perish.  This 
is  the  knowledge  which  brings  deliverance.^  The 
Buddha  is  many  times  reported  to  have  said,  "As 
the  great  ocean  has  but  one  taste,  the  taste  of  salt, 
so  my  doctrine  has  but  one  flavour,  the  flavour  of 
emancipation." 

So  he  stopped  with  the  great  adjustment;  and 
with  teaching  a  way  of  life  and  accordant  precepts 
for  conduct  enabling  men  to  attain  it.  He  evinces 
no  detached  and  disinterested  pursuit  of  knowledge  : 

^  Cf.  H.  C.  Warren,  Buddhism  in  Translationsy  §13,  pp.  1 17-127. 
(Harvard  Oriental  Series,  Fifth  Issue,  1909.) 
F 


(£  DELIVERANCE 

his  adjustment  had  involved  enough  of  wrestling 
with  life's  data;  to  have  gone  further  would  have 
extended  needlessly  the  sorrow-filled  states  of  human 
consciousness.  We  may  say  that  a  pursuit  of 
knowledge  here  and  there  would  have  countered 
the  very  principles  of  his  adjustment;  but  then 
likely  we  shall  be  talking  in  terms  of  our  own,  and 
not  in  his.  Doubtless  Buddha  never  put  the  matter 
in  this  way ;  and  how,  if  in  any  way,  he  put  it,  we 
do  not  know. 

It  was  enough.  He  had  won  peace;  and  having 
won  it,  he  lived  on  and  taught  it  to  the  brotherhood, 
putting  it  probably  to  the  more  enlightened  in  those 
same  self-reliant  reasonings  in  which  he  had  won 
it  for  himself.  To  attain  to  this  emancipating 
knowledge,  and  conform  one's  thought  and  conduct 
to  its  principles,  was  sufficient  disciplina  to  fill  the 
most  strenuous  life.  The  path  to  be  trodden  by 
the  disciples  of  the  Buddha  was  not  less  arduous 
than  the  path  to  be  trodden  by  the  disciples  of  the 
Christ.  And  when  the  Tathagata  had  passed  away, 
no  aid,  beyond  the  inspiration  of  his  example,  re- 
mained for  those  Buddhist  monks  who  would  attain 
the  blessedness  of  peace.  They  were  cast  upon 
their  own  endeavours.  So  he  had  adjured  them, 
"Be  ye  lamps  unto  yourselves.  Be  ye  a  refuge 
unto  yourselves.  Betake  yourselves  to  no  external 
refuge.  Hold  fast  to  the  truth  as  a  lamp.  Look 
not  for  a  refuge  to  anyone  beside  yourselves.     Let  a 


ANNIHILATION  OF  INDIVIDUALITY  (ij 

monk  as  he  dwells  in  the  body  so  regard  the  body 
that  he  being  strenuous,  thoughtful  and  mindful, 
may  whilst  in  the  world  overcome  the  grief  which 
arises  from  the  bodily  craving;  so  also,  as  he 
thinks,  or  reasons,  or  feels,  let  him  overcome  the 
grief  which  arises  from  the  craving  due  to  ideas, 
or  to  reasoning,  or  to  feeling.  .  .  .  Behold  now,  I 
exhort  you,  saying.  Decay  is  inherent  in  all  things. 
Work  out  your  own  salvation  with  diligence.  These 
were  the  last  words  of  the  Perfected  One."  ^ 

1  Book  of  the  Great  Decease,  Zacrei  Books  of  the  East,  Vol.  XI. 


CHAPTER  IV 

Zarathushtra 

A  STRIKINGLY  non-Indian  and  militant  ad- 
-^^  justment  was  achieved  by  a  man  of  kindred 
race,  Zarathushtra,  the  prophet  of  Iran.^  He  won 
his  spiritual  freedom  through  creating  a  new  faith 
and  consecrating  himself  to  a  chosen  cause,  the 
faith  and  cause  of  Mazda.  He  had  found  no  peace 
in  the  worship  of  his  people's  gods.  Apparently 
they  had  become  to  him  abominations.  His  peace 
required  a  god  who  could  satisfy  his  intellect  and 
moral  consciousness;  and  his  nature  cried  for  a 
mighty  righteous  One  to  whom  his  heart  might 
turn  and  whom  his  strength  might  serve;  who  in 
return  would  bring  efficient  aid  and  the  victory 
that  was  alike  his  and  his  servant's. 

Zarathushtra  would  have  found  no  rest  in  the 
nature-gods  and  wavering  symbolism  of  the  Indian 
pantheon,  nor  in  an  unresponsive  Absolute,  nor  in 
such  a  godless  gospel  of  relief  from  sorrow  as  the 

1  Cf.  A.  V.  W.  Jackson,  "Zoroaster  the  Prophet  of  Ancient  Iran" 
(1899),  also,  James  Hope  Moulton,  "Early  Zoroastrianism," 
Hibbert  Lectures  for  1912.  The  date  and  birthplace  of  Zara- 
thushtra are  not  known.  He  may  have  lived  as  late  as  the  sixth 
century  before  Christ,  or  as  early  as  the  tenth.  And  where  in 
Persia  or  Media  (Atropatene  ?)  he  was  born  is  also  unknown. 

68 


ZARATHUSHTRA  69 

Buddha  preached.  There  is  utter  disparity  between 
Indian  convictions  and  the  Zarathushtrian  temper. 
Is  it  that  travelling  north  and  westward,  crossing 
the  Hindukush,  we  have  come  to  a  new  spiritual 
atmosphere  ?  We  have  certainly  left  the  region  of 
Taoism's  anaemic  inaction  and  the  heaven-approved 
ethics  of  Confucius.  Nor  do  we  find  conceptions 
of  a  still  and  fathomless  relationship  with  the 
divine,  as  of  Atman  and  Brahman,  nor  any  self- 
reliant,  godless,  scheme  of  quenching  the  thirst,  the 
suffering,  and  the  consciousness  of  man. 

One  feels  the  futility  of  placing  Confucianism, 
Brahmanism,  Buddhism,  along  with  the  fighting 
faiths  of  Zarathushtra  and  the  Hebrew  prophets, 
under  the  same  general  concept  of  religion;  like- 
wise the  futility  of  separating  the  intellectual  from 
the  practical  driving  elements  within  these  systems ; 
and  finally  the  dangers  besetting  the  attempt  to 
draw  broad  lines  between  them  and  the  inquiring 
intellectualism  of  Greek  philosophy.  Beneath  all 
systems  lies  the  universal  need  of  human  nature  to 
function  according  to  its  faculties,  while  the  differ- 
ences inhering  in  those  faculties  and  arising  through 
their  exercise  involve  the  whole  human  complex, 
and  will  not  lie  snug  on  separate  shelves  of  ethics, 
religion,  philosophy. 

How  the  motives  vary  with  the  tempers  of  the 
men !  All  great  exponents  of  the  human  need  of 
adjustment,   masters   likewise   of  the   rational  and 


JO  DELIVERANCE 

emotional  faculties  through  which  that  need  is 
satisfied,  seek  to  learn  and  know;  but  with  such 
different  inspiration  and  in  such  different  fields. 
Perhaps  those  who  are  entitled  to  the  name  of 
philosopher  would  learn  for  knowledge's  sake;  but 
with  equal  ardour  the  founders  of  ethical  or  religious 
systems  have  sought  in  knowledge  a  rational  basis 
for  their  working  principles  and  a  justification  for 
their  ideals,  —  only  with  what  a  tumult  of  diversity 
they  move  I  These  great  ones,  moreover,  approve 
or  inculcate  like  ways  of  conduct  —  benevolence, 
truth,  respect  for  others'  rights,  the  virtues  on 
which  society  everywhere  must  stand.  Yet  how 
the  sanction  or  reason  for  the  practice  of  these 
virtues  varies  !  Indeed,  so  great  is  the  diversity 
both  of  motive  and  intellectual  energy  that  one  is 
equally  impressed  by  the  sameness  of  the  under- 
lying need  to  function  and  the  heterogeneous  modes, 
the  temperamental  diversity,  of  its  manifestation. 

Zarathushtra  was  a  man  hard-pressed  between 
the  resistance  of  opponents  and  his  own  impulse  to 
fight  and  make  others  fight  for  the  faith  which  moved 
him.  He  comes  close  to  the  Hebrew  prophets  in 
the  temper  of  his  life-adjustment.  This  begins  in 
reflection  and  prayer,  rises  to  a  sense  of  divine  call, 
and  completes  itself  in  consecration  of  his  energies 
to  the  cause  of  Mazda.  The  fiery  lines  of  thought 
along  which  Zarathushtra  may  be  deemed  to  have 
broken  from  the  beliefs  about  him  and  to  have  set 


ZARATHUSHTRA  71 

as  his  star  the  mental  vision  of  Ahura  Mazda,  are 
suggested  in  the  Gathas:  ^ 

"With  outspread  hands  I  will  pray,  O  Mazda, 
to  fulfil  all  the  works  of  the  good  spirit,  that  I  may- 
please  Good  Thought.  ...  I  who  would  serve 
thee,  0  Mazda,  —  grant  me  the  blessings  of  the  two 
worlds,  that  of  the  body  and  that  of  the  spirit,  by 
which  Ahura  places  in  happiness  them  that  delight 
him;  I  who  give  myself  to  thee,  O  Righteousness, 
and  to  Good  Thought,  and  to  Ahura  Mazda,  to 
whom  belong  imperishable  dominion  .  .  .  come  at 
my  call  to  my  help.  I  who  through  Good  Thought, 
and  knowing  the  rewards  of  Mazda,  will  while  I 
have  strength  teach  men  to  seek  the  good.  .  .  . 
Come  with  Good  Thought  and  Righteousness,  O 
Mazda  by  thy  sure  words  give  mighty  and  enduring 
help  to  Zarathushtra." 

Hard  upon  such  thought  of  Ahura  and  the 
thinker's  ardour  to  bring  to  pass  Good  Thought  and 
the  divine  Righteousness,  comes  the  call.  It  is  as 
when  Isaiah  beheld  Yahweh  high  and  lifted  up, 
heard  the  "Holy,  Holy,  Holy!"  and  the  words, 
"Whom  shall  I  send  ?"  to  which  not  alone  his  lips 
but  his  Hfe  answered,  "Send  me!"  So  the  Hfe  of 
Zarathushtra   responded   to  the   nature   and   com- 

*The  portions  of  the  Zend-Avesta  known  as  the  Gathas 
(Yasna,  28-34,  43-51,  53)  are  the  most  direct  evidence  we  have 
of  Zarathushtra's  thought.  But  the  translations  are  still  difiicult, 
if  not  uncertain. 


72  DELIVERANCE 

mands  of  Ahura  Mazda.     He  is  speaking  as  from 
a  later  period  in  his  life : 

"And  I  knew  thee  as  an  holy  one,  Ahura  Mazda 
when  Good  Thought  came  to  me,  asking.  Who  art 
thou  ?  To  whom  dost  thou  belong  ?  And  I 
straightway  answered :  Zarathushtra.  A  foe  will 
I  be  to  the  liar  but  a  strong  help  to  the  righteous, 
that  I  may  reach  heaven.  I  praise  and  worship 
thee,  O  Mazda  I 

"And  I  knew  thee  as  an  holy  one,  0  Mazda, 
when  Good  Thought  came  to  me,  and  to  my  ques- 
tions made  answer :  Ask  what  thou  wilt ;  for  thine 
asking  is  as  that  of  a  mighty  one.  .  .  . 

"And  I  knew  thee  as  an  holy  one,  Ahura  Mazda, 
when  Good  Thought  came  to  me,  and  by  thy  words 
revealed  the  sorrow  to  be  brought  through  my 
devotion  to  that  which  thou  hast  declared  to  be 
the  best.  Zarathushtra  chooses  for  himself  every 
Holy  Spirit  of  thine." 

One  may  think  that  out  of  the  struggles  of  his 
later  life,  Zarathushtra  realised  the  import  of  his 
early  visions  and  the  call  to  do  battle  for  Ahura. 
In  their  lyric  way  the  Gathic  hymns  of  the  Avesta 
give  the  accents  of  the  story,  suggesting  a  time  in 
the  prophet's  life  of  gathering  strength  and  clear- 
ing insight,  of  cumulative  impulse  becoming  master- 
ing purpose,  till  the  man  becomes  the  prophet.  He 
has  then  not  only  found  his  god,  but  his  god  has 
found  him,  the  one  man  amid  a  dumb  multitude. 


ZARATHUSHTRA  73 

Ahura's  spirit,  Good  Thought,  speaks  to  Ahura, 
the  supreme  Lord  Wisdom :  "One  man  only  have 
I  found  who  will  hear  thy  instruction  and  with 
accordant  mind  teach  men  thy  law  and  declare  the 
faith  of  Mazda." 

For  Zarathushtra,  the  false  gods  and  all  the 
filth  and  evil  of  the  world  have  set  themselves 
against  the  Holy  Spirits  of  Ahura,  even  against  that 
Supreme  Wise  Lord,  Creator  of  righteousness  and 
truth  and  all  things  good.  The  history  of  the 
world  is  the  history  of  this  conflict  between  "the 
world's  two  primal  spirits,  the  holier  one  of  which 
did  thus  address  the  evil:  *  Neither  do  our  minds, 
our  teachings,  our  beliefs,  our  words,  our  deeds,  or 
our  souls  agree.'"  Zarathushtra's  faith  lifts  itself 
into  a  militant  dualism ;  but  a  dualism  endowed  with 
trust  in  the  Good,  and  a  vision  which  looks  across 
the  plain  of  battle  to  the  final  victory,  at  the  world's 
end:  "And  I  knew  thee  as  an  holy  one  when  I 
beheld  thee  bringing  to  pass  retribution  for  the 
wicked,  reward  for  the  good,  at  the  world's  last 
change,  when  thou,  with  thy  holy  spirit,  Mazda, 
shalt  appear  with  the  power  of  Right  Order  and  with 
Good  Thought,  through  whose  working  men  in- 
crease in  Truth  and  Righteousness." 

Direct  personal  trust  in  Mazda  and  the  good 
spirits  which  seem  his  attributes  or  (sometimes) 
emanations,  with  fiery  devotion  to  their  cause, 
this  is  Zarathushtra's  adjustment,  his  free  will  offer- 


74  DELIVERANCE 

ing  wherein  lies  the  attainment  of  his  spiritual  free- 
dom :  "And  Zarathushtra,  he  makes  offering  of  his 
life.  He  gives  to  Mazda's  spirits  the  guidance  of 
his  acts  and  words."  Through  defeat,  through 
discouragement,  he  will  look  for  aid  and  guidance 
to  Ahura,  to  whose  nature  and  commands  he  will 
conform  his  life,  and  compel  others  so  far  as  he  may. 
He  is  thwarted,  pressed  by  defeat,  forsaken  of  men : 
"To  what  land  shall  I  turn  ?  Followers  and  kin 
forsake  me.  How  can  I  advance  thy  cause,  Ahura  ? 
I  am  stripped  of  herds  and  men.  I  cry  to  thee  for 
help;  grant  me  support  as  friend  to  friend.  Teach 
me  to  strive  for  Good  Thought  and  insight." 

So  Zarathushtra  fights  through  his  life,  aided  by 
many  converts,  among  whom  is  a  king,  Vistaspa. 
We  are  not  concerned  with  the  subsequent  fortunes 
of  the  faith  which  in  some  way  the  Parsees  still 
hand  on,  which  also  seems  to  have  affected  later 
Jewish  thought  and  was  the  ancestor  of  Mithraism 
and  Manicheism.  Zarathushtra's  own  adjustment 
was  not  peace,  but  freedom  to  fight  for  the  faith  in 
which  he  trusted.  Even  through  our  partial  knowl- 
edge, we  are  impressed  with  the  elevated  spirituality 
of  his  conceptions,  with  the  power  of  his  trust  in 
Mazda,  with  the  energy  of  the  thought  which 
marshalled  in  adverse  camps  the  good  and  evil  of 
the  world,  and  with  the  strength  of  his  assurance 
of  lasting  reward  for  the  good,  and  perdition  for 
the  wicked,  at  the  world's  final  end. 


CHAPTER  V 
The  Prophets  of  Israel 

''  I  V3  some  extent  with  every  people  the  ideals  of 
-*-  human  conduct  and  human  life  have  tended 
to  conform  to  their  conceptions  of  the  supreme 
Power  or  the  Supreme  Being.  This  form  of  the 
statement  carries  more  truth  than  the  converse 
one,  that  men  have  formed  their  ideas  of  God  along 
the  lines  of  their  best  thoughts  of  humanity.  Either 
confusedly,  as  in  primitive  thought,  or  upon  mature 
reflection,  men  usually  have  felt  that  the  Power  or 
Powers,  good,  evil,  or  elemental,  outside  themselves 
were  different  from  men  in  nature  and  function. 
Mankind  has  hesitated  to  build  up  its  thoughts  of 
them  wholly  along  conceptions  of  what  belonged 
to  human  life  or  was  good  in  human  conduct.  But 
prudential  motives  have  always  influenced  men  to 
propitiate  those  powers,  and  in  some  way  adjust 
their  lives  to  the  ways  or  will  of  the  divine,  for  the 
sake  of  their  own  adjustment  with  life  and  the 
powers  of  life.  In  fine,  even  if  all  conceptions  of 
the  divine  will  and  nature  be  deemed  the  fruit  of 
the  human  mind,  nevertheless  men  are  less  apt  to 
model  them  directly  on  the  image  of  man  than  they 

75 


^S  DELIVERANCE 

are  to  conform  their  own  lives  to  the  Hkeness  or 
the  will  of  the  Divine  which  they  have  made. 

Confucius,  for  example,  could  scarcely  have 
modelled  his  idea  of  "Heaven"  and  the  "way  of 
Heaven"  upon  man;  and  yet  to  imitate  the  way 
of  Heaven  was  to  be  a  sage.  Neither  did  Lao  Tzu 
or  Chuang  Tzu  form  the  Tao  on  any  obviously  human 
pattern,  although  anxious  to  fashion  their  conduct 
according  to  its  ways.  In  India  it  would  likewise 
seem  that  Brahman,  the  Universal  Absolute,  was 
the  primary,  and  the  Atman  or  eternal  Self  the 
secondary  and  conforming  concept.  Both  repre- 
sent, however,  the  Indian  ideal  of  undisturbed 
existence.  Gotama's  teachings  followed  the  mood 
of  the  Upanishads,  while  revolting  from  their  meta- 
physics and  establishing  a  new  psychology.  But  if 
the  Absolute  God  and  Self  were  dissipated,  there 
remained  a  most  real  peace  and  freedom  from  desire, 
which  Buddhism  gradually  bulwarked  with  eternal, 
more  than  human.  Influences,  to  whose  ways  man's 
conduct  should  conform.  We  entered  another 
world  with  Zarathushtra  and  his  fighting  God, 
Ahura  Mazda,  whom  the  Prophet  of  Iran  conceived 
in  accordance  with  his  most  strenuous  ideals,  and 
whose  will  he  strove  to  carry  out  with  a  masterful 
devotion,  paralleled  only  among  the  prophets  of 
Israel. 

We  have  but  uncertain  knowledge  of  the  spiritual 
background   of  Israel's   religion.     There  were   ele- 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  77 

ments  in  the  religions  of  Chaldaea  and  Canaan 
suited  to  form  the  nucleus  of  her  fierce  tribal  faith ; 
and  in  Egypt  waves  of  fluctuating  monotheism  were 
not  unusual.  But  it  was  centuries  after  any  early 
Egyptian  associations  had  been  severed  that  Israel's 
tribal  worship  broadened  to  the  conception  of 
Yahweh  as  the  sole  God  of  all  the  earth ;  while  on 
the  other  hand,  generally  speaking,  Israel's  religious 
development  advanced  through  strenuous  disavowal 
both  of  the  pressing  influences  of  Canaan  and  any 
possible  reminiscences  of  Chaldaea.  This  little  book, 
which  is  not  intended  to  be  learned,  may  be  pardoned 
if  it  turn  directly  to  the  adjustment  with  God 
reached  by  Israel's  prophets  and  the  most  righteous 
of  her  kings. 

What  a  picture  do  we  have  of  the  life-adjustment 
of  Israel's  first  and  apparently  greatest  prophet, 
Moses !  But  unhappily  the  earlier  lines  in  the 
Pentateuch  portrait  are  from  tradition  rather  than 
from  life,  and  have  been  freely  painted  over  by 
later  hands  inspired  by  priestly  thoughts.  Each  of 
us  for  himself  may  scan  this  chequered  picture 
under  the  guidance  of  the  connoisseurs  who  have 
separated  layer  from  layer.  Only  we  may  be  sure 
that  the  earlier  pigments  reflect  in  some  way  a 
man  of  power,  whose  adjustment  of  his  life  with 
the  commands  of  Yahweh  forecasts  the  train  of 
kingly  and  prophetic  effort  to  bring  to  pass  that 
obedience  to  Yahweh's  will  which  should  draw  down 


78  DELIVERANCE 

prosperity  betimes,  but  lead  at  last  through  tribu- 
lation to  a  larger  understanding  of  the  ways  of  God. 

It  is  safer  to  pass  on  to  David,  where  the  record 
is  somewhat  surer.  Through  a  life  of  peril  and 
success,  as  a  man  of  war  and  stratagem  and  as  a 
king,  he  is  also  winning  his  adjustment  with  the 
power  which  guides  and  guards  him.  David  was  a 
hero  even  in  the  Epic  sense,  combining  traits  of 
Achilles  and  Odysseus.  The  Homeric  heroes  also 
relied  on  their  gods,  but  not  with  such  growth  of 
reciprocating  devotion  as  marks  David's  attitude 
toward  Yahweh.  And  yet  he  is  less  devotedly  a 
servant  of  Yahweh  than  the  prophets,  who  serve 
their  God  without  regard  to  self.  Yahweh  is  to 
David  as  a  father,  —  who  can  also  punish :  and 
David,  after  the  manner  of  sons,  realises  Yahweh's 
goodness  to  him  only  in  the  evening  of  his  life. 
Then  we  see  that  a  religious  development  has  been 
running  through  his  life-adjustment.  If  he  always 
looked  for  aid  to  Yahweh,  in  the  end,  besides  obedi- 
ence, he  offers  in  return  humility  and  thankfulness, 
devotion  and  desire  to  build  Yahweh  an  house. 
David's  best  acts,  his  righteous  conduct,  as  when 
he  would  not  kill  the  sleeping  Saul,  had  accorded 
with  his  recognition  of  Yahweh's  will ;  and  the  en- 
noblement of  his  character  proceeds  through  a  larger 
understanding  of  Yahweh's  love. 

The  records  of  David's  life-adjustment  bear  wit- 
ness to  the  fulness  of  his  life  from  the  beginning, 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  79 

with  its  eager  energy  and  loving  impulses  dis- 
closed, for  instance,  in  those  confused,  but  lovely, 
stories  of  his  first  meeting  with  Saul.  That  his 
presence,  his  lyre-playing,  could  assuage  the  king's 
dark  moods,  that  Saul's  son  and  daughter  loved 
him,  that  the  people  sang  his  praises,  all  bespeak  a 
personality  abounding  in  capacity  for  deeds,  for 
counsel,  for  affection,  even  for  that  outpour  of 
mood  in  song  and  movement  which  has  immemorially 
belonged  to  the  heroic  nature  —  to  David,  to 
Achilles,  or  to  the  men  of  the  Norse  sagas. 

The  readiness  of  his  genius  appears  in  all  his  acts, 
as  when  he  pays  the  bride-price  for  Michal,  and 
then  escapes  from  Saul's  spear  as  well  as  from  his 
plot  to  murder  him  in  bed,  and  concerts  with 
Jonathan  a  plan  of  safety.  With  cunning  and 
bravery  he  keeps  his  hunted  head  through  his 
outlawed  career  until  made  king ;  and  no  later  king 
in  Israel  was  to  equal  his  energy  of  rule,  before  the 
weakness  of  old  age  came  on  him. 

A  simple  faith  in  Yahweh  quickened  his  courage. 
It  was  shown  in  his  young  confidence  that  Yahweh 
would  dehver  him  from  the  paw  of  bear  and  lion 
and  from  Goliath's  spear.  It  pervaded  and  gradu- 
ally beautified  his  life,  and  moulded  the  sense  of 
right  and  wrong  so  strong  in  him.  He  must  keep 
well  with  righteousness  —  or  bitterly  repent !  And 
righteousness  with  him  was  always  that  which 
corresponded    with    Yahweh's    will,    while    every 


8o  DELIVERANCE 

wrongful  act  was  a  sin  against  God,  as  it  had  been 
and  ever  was  to  be  in  Israel :  "  How  can  I  do  this 
great  wickedness,  and  sin  against  God  ?"  had  been 
Joseph's  thought;  and  the  repentant  Psalmist's 
cry  will  be:  "Against  Thee,  Thee  only,  have  I 
sinned." 

The  incidents  of  David's  progress  in  that  right- 
eousness which  was  identical  with  Yahweh's  will 
and  part  of  David's  faith  mark  the  course  of  his 
adjustment.  He  had  always  asked,  and  followed, 
Yahweh's  counsel;  and  in  every  crisis  his  sense  of 
Yahweh  helped  him  to  act  righteously,  as  when  he 
would  not  slay  Yahweh's  anointed  who  sought  his 
life,  and  under  other  circumstances  allowed  himself 
to  be  turned  from  his  revenge  on  the  churl  Nabal 
by  the  words  of  Abigail.  A  little  after  this,  his 
conviction  that  victory  and  recovery  of  spoil  are 
from  Yahweh  showed  him  the  justice  of  awarding 
an  equal  share  to  those  who  kept  the  camp  and  those 
who  went  down  into  the  battle. 

The  news  reaches  David  of  the  flight  of  Israel 
and  the  death  of  Saul  and  Jonathan.  Does  he  exult 
that  his  enemy  is  no  more  and  that  the  crown  is 
his  ?  Rather  he  feels  the  blow  fallen  on  Yahweh's 
people,  and  with  his  men  he  mourns  and  fasts, 
while  he  chants  that  dirge : 

"Weep  O  Judah  ! 
Grieve  O  Israel ! 
How  are  the  mighty  fallen  !" 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  8l 

a  dirge  which  dwells  on  the  public  calamity  until 
the  singer's  grief  for  Jonathan  presses  back  other 
thoughts : 

"  I  am  distressed  for  thee,  my  brother  Jonathan :  .  .  . 
Thy  love  to  me  was  wonderful. 
Passing  the  love  of  women." 

A  like  piety  and  sense  of  right  moves  him  to 
declare  before  Yahweh  his  innocence  of  Abner's 
blood  and  to  follow  the  bier  in  sackcloth.  And  it 
was  heroic  piety  that  moved  him,  pent  up  by  war, 
when  his  mighty  men  had  brought  him  water  at  the 
risk  of  life,  to  pour  it  out  before  his  God. 

King  of  all  Israel,  with  Jerusalem  taken  and 
made  the  City  of  David,  he  thinks  to  honour  Yah- 
weh by  bringing  up  the  Ark  of  God.  The  death  of 
the  rash  Uzzah  frightens  him  for  a  time,  till  he  is 
reassured.  Then  with  sacrifices  and  the  shouting 
of  Israel,  and  with  the  king  himself  dancing  before 
Yahweh  with  all  his  might,  the  Ark  is  brought  up. 
For  a  great  man  thus  to  uncover  himself  before  his 
maid-servants  was  a  sheer  Semitic  horror  —  so  it 
seemed  to  Michal,  as  she  taunted  him  returning  to 
his  house.  But  David  answers:  "It  was  before 
Yahweh,  who  chose  me  above  thy  father  and  above 
all  his  house  to  appoint  me  prince  over  his  people 
Israel  —  I  will  be  more  vile  than  this,  and  base  in 
my  own  sight." 

Then,  having  rest  from  all  his  enemies,   David 


82  DELIVERANCE 

plans  to  build  Yahweh  a  house,  as  told  in  the 
seventh  chapter  of  Second  Samuel.  Yahweh,  by 
the  mouth  of  Nathan,  stays  the  plan,  but  bids  the 
prophet  tell  his  servant  David  how  he  took  him 
from  the  sheepcote  to  be  prince  over  Israel,  and 
had  been  with  him  always,  and  had  made  him  a 
name  above  the  great;  and  now  would  promise 
him  to  estabHsh  his  house  and  his  seed  after  him  in 
the  kingdom,  chastening  that  seed  as  a  father,  but 
not  rejecting  it.  To  this,  David  answers  with  full 
recognition  of  Yahweh's  mercy  and  greatness,  and 
begs  him  to  make  good  his  promise,  in  order  that 
Yahweh*s  name  may  be  great  forever  and  that  his 
servant's  house  may  forever  be  established  before 
him.  "And  now  O  Lord  Yahweh,  thou  art  God. 
And  thy  words  are  truth,  and  thou  hast  promised 
this  good  thing  unto  thy  servant;  now  therefore 
let  it  please  thee  to  bless  the  house  of  thy  servant 
that  it  may  continue  forever  before  thee." 

There  follows  the  untoward  episode  of  numbering 
the  people,  and  the  king's  atoning  sacrifice  to  stay 
Yahweh's  mysterious  wrath ;  then  the  slow  incrimi- 
nating story  of  David's  crime  against  Uriah,  and  his 
realisation  of  it  at  the  word  of  Nathan,  and  that  he 
had  sinned  against  Yahweh.  Out  of  this  crime  and 
sin  issues  the  dark  and  moving  tale  of  unnatural 
lust,  vengeance,  ambition,  and  treachery  in  David's 
house  —  from  which  the  sword  should  not  depart  I 
David's  efficient  penitence  and  the  atonement  which 


THE   PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  83 

lay  in  the  growth  of  a  contrite  character  were  to  be 
evinced  in  the  old  king's  acceptance  of  the  foul 
calamities  coming  on  him  and  on  his  house  from 
the  wickedness  of  the  children  of  his  loins.  As  the 
king  flees  before  Absalom  he  will  not  have  the 
priests  carry  forth  with  him  the  Ark  of  God  :  "  Carry 
back  the  Ark  of  God  into  the  City :  if  I  shall  find 
favour  in  the  eyes  of  Yahweh,  he  will  bring  me 
again  and  show  me  both  it  and  his  dwelling;  but 
if  he  say  thus,  I  have  no  delight  in  thee ;  behold 
here  am  I,  let  him  do  to  me  as  seems  good  to  him." 
When  Shimei  curses  and  casts  stones,  the  contrition 
abiding  in  the  king's  heart  and  the  sorrow  that  has 
long  been  his  cause  him  to  hold  back  his  followers : 
"  Behold  my  son  which  came  forth  from  my  bowels 
seeks  my  life :  how  much  more  may  this  Benja- 
mite  ?  Let  him  alone  and  let  him  curse ;  for  Yah- 
weh has  bidden  him.  It  may  be  that  Yahweh  will 
look  on  the  wrong  done  me  and  will  requite  me  good 
for  the  cursing  of  this  day." 

In  brave  and  faithful  acts,  in  love  of  friend,  in 
justice,  in  sin,  repentance,  righteousness  and  mercy, 
and  through  a  deepening  knowledge  of  Yahweh's 
goodness,  David  maintained  his  freedom  of  act  and 
confidence  of  soul.  In  the  fulness  of  his  years, 
blessing  Yahweh  for  having  given  one  to  sit  upon 
his  throne,  his  end  came  as  the  end  of 

**  One  that  ruleth  over  men  righteously, 
That  ruleth  in  the  fear  of  God." 


84  DELIVERANCE 

Hebrew  prophecy  may  be  included  altogether 
under  our  conception  of  adjustment,  as  the  har- 
monising of  the  human  spirit  with  the  powers  shap- 
ing human  destiny.  The  obvious  function  of  the 
prophets  was  to  enlighten  the  people,  more  par- 
ticularly the  rulers,  touching  the  efficient  nature, 
the  commands,  and  the  purposes  of  Yahweh ;  and 
to  admonish  them  to  act  accordingly.  The  pro- 
phetic adjustment  was  religious,  knowing  no  other 
sanction  than  Yahweh's  will.  Progressing  with  the 
enlargement  of  the  prophetic  mind,  it  does  not  rep- 
resent an  unchanging  view  of  the  character  of 
the  divine,  but  a  magnificent  development  as  the 
conception  of  Yahweh  grows  from  age  to  age  under 
the  further  enlightenment  of  experience  and  medi- 
tation, through  which  in  divers  ways  God  inspires 
his  prophets.  And  one  will  see  that  the  prophet's 
thoughts  of  Yahweh  advance  to  an  emphatic  and, 
one  may  say,  international  monotheism,  through 
observation  of  Yahweh's  power  fashioning  the  fate 
of  Israel  and  the  destinies  of  nations,  and  operative 
within  the  heart  of  man.  In  like  manner,  Zara- 
thushtra's  thought  of  Ahura  Mazda  sprang  forward 
from  exigency  to  exigency,  pragmatically  as  it  were, 
and  not  through  ontological  meditations  on  the 
divine  nature,  such  as  arose  in  India. 

So  the  adjustment  which  the  prophets  demanded 
of  Yahweh's  people  was  moulded,  and  continually 
remoulded,  on  those  enlarging  thoughts  of  Yahweh's 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  85 

will  and  purposes  with  which  succeeding  prophets 
were  inspired.  The  untowardness  of  events  was  a 
stumbling-block  and  then  again  a  goad,  driving  the 
prophets  on  to  the  attainment  of  conceptions  con- 
stantly uplifting.  Never  did  the  remnant  of  a 
people  so  wrestle  with  God  for  an  adjustment  of 
their  minds  with  the  course  of  their  destinies  and 
the  power  controlling  them,  as  did  the  larger  minded 
Jews,  crushed  beneath  the  shock  of  Syrian  and  Assy- 
rian, of  Babylonian,  Persian,  Greek. 

The  prophetic  adjustment  drives,  or  is  driven,  on. 
With  respect  to  thoughts  of  God,  it  wins  its  way  from 
Yahweh  as  the  peremptory  god  of  Israel,  to  Yahweh 
as  the  sole  and  only  god,  supreme  in  the  power  of 
his  righteousness  over  all  nations;  and  with  respect 
to  thoughts  of  man,  of  Israel,  it  wins  its  way  through 
the  spent  hopes  of  national  prosperity,  the  con- 
viction of  common  sin  and  a  people's  responsibility, 
to  the  thought  of  each  individual's  guilt  or  inno- 
cence; whereupon  it  seems  incited  to  discriminate 
obscurely  between  the  lots  of  the  righteous  and 
the  wicked  beyond  the  grave ;  but  with  the  ineradi- 
cable tribal  consciousness  of  the  Jew,  it  turns  more 
surely  to  the  thought  of  a  national  adjustment 
thrown  forward  to  some  future  time,  and  harbouring 
within  the  walls  of  a  triumphant  New  Jerusalem, 
which  is  sanctified  through  Yahweh's  presence;  or 
the  prophetic  thought  bows  down  sublimely  before 
an  ideal  of  Israel  as  Yahweh's  servant,  afflicted  and 


86  DELIVERANCE 

redeemed  in  the  service  of  his  other  children  on  the 
earth. 

In  the  careers  of  the  prophets  there  is  none  of 
Jacob's  patriarchal  egotism  or  David's  royal  fore- 
handedness.  They  are  Yahweh's  spokesmen.  As 
for  their  personal  adjustment,  that  may  appear  in  the 
light  of  their  exhortations  to  others.  Moreover, 
since  Israel  was  one  people,  bound  together  through 
blood,  as  well  as  through  Yahweh's  covenant  made 
with  them  as  a  people,  the  personal  adjustment  of 
the  prophets  was  merged  in  this  common  solidarity. 
Did  not  that  include  Yahweh,  of  whom  it  was 
declared,  "  In  all  the  affliction  of  his  people  he  is 
afflicted"  .?  Likewise  his  prophets  were  afflicted  in 
the  affliction  of  his  people  and  blessed  in  their 
prosperity.  But  we  may  think  that  a  prophet's 
surest  stay  was  the  sense  that  he  was  Yahweh's 
servant,  admitted  to  his  confidences,  and  to  a 
knowledge  of  his  will  and  purposes  :  "  Surely  Yahweh 
does  nothing  unless  he  reveals  his  secrets  to  his 
servants  the  prophets." 

Elijah's  understanding  of  Yahweh's  will  affords 
an  opening  illustration  of  the  prophetic  adjustment. 
Ahab  is  king  of  northern  Israel ;  he  has  married  the 
Sidonian  princess  Jezebel,  has  led  his  people  to 
worship  Baal,  and  sorely  persecuted  the  prophets  of 
Yahweh.  Elijah  has  to  his  face  foretold  his  punish- 
ment through  a  consuming  drought  upon  the  land; 
and  when  the  drought  is  in  its  third  year,  he  again 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  87 

confronts  Ahab  with  the  challenge  to  determine 
whether  Baal  or  Yahweh  be  God  —  for  Elijah's 
Yahweh  will  tolerate  no  other  god  or  idol  in  his  land. 
When  the  king  has  gathered  all  Israel  unto  Mount 
Carmel,  Elijah  demands  of  the  people,  "How  long 
halt  ye  between  two  opinions :  if  Yahweh  be  God, 
follow  him,  if  the  Baal,  then  follow  him."  And 
after  the  test  is  ended,  and  Yahweh's  fire  has  con- 
sumed the  burnt  oflFering  and  the  altar,  there  comes 
the  word,  "Take  the  prophets  of  the  Baal,  let  not 
one  of  them  escape." 

Yahweh  will  endure  no  other  god  in  Israel  —  this 
conviction  is  one  phase  of  Elijah's  adjustment. 
The  other  is  his  realisation  of  Yahweh's  justice,  so 
fiercely  to  be  vindicated  upon  Ahab  and  Jezebel  for 
the  crime  of  Naboth  murdered  for  his  vineyard : 
"  In  the  place  where  dogs  licked  the  blood  of  Naboth, 
shall  dogs  lick  thy  blood."  But  in  the  meanwhile, 
even  after  his  triumph  on  Mount  Carmel,  flying 
from  Jezebel,  a  very  queenly  woman,  Elijah  in  the 
cave  on  Horeb,  has  known  the  earthquake  and  the 
tempest  there;  and  after  them,  in  the  contrasted 
quiet,  he  has  heard  Yahweh's  still  small  voice  direct- 
ing him. 

Elijah's  mantle  fell  on  Elisha,  who  seems  his 
master's  replica,  but  with  his  story  set  in  rather 
questionable  miracles.  It  is  not  clear  that  he 
advanced  the  thought  of  God.  So  we  pass  on  to 
Amos,  the  earliest  prophet  whose  writings,  or  at 


88  DELIVERANCE 

least  utterances,  survive.  Since  Elijah's  death  a 
hundred  years  had  passed.  Now  the  prophetic 
vision  had  need  to  embrace  not  only  the  small  rival 
peoples  surrounding  the  kingdoms  of  northern  Israel 
and  Judah,  but  beyond  them  the  powerful  Damas- 
cus, and  Assyria  impending  from  afar.  The  vision 
of  Amos  has  thus  widened,  with  the  result  that  he 
knows  Yahweh  as  the  just  god  of  all  these  nations, 
and  not  of  Israel  alone.  Very  penetrating  was  the 
vision  of  Amos ;  if  he  came  from  among  the  shep- 
herds of  the  village  of  Tekoa,  his  knowledge  of 
life  could  scarcely  have  been  gained  within  their 
circle. 

Seemingly  Israel,  the  northern  kingdom  to  which 
Amos  spoke,  was  then  prospering.  He  saw  the 
idolatry  practised  there,  and  the  injustice  and 
oppression  which  prevailed  —  prevailed  at  least 
for  the  stem  eye  whose  business  was  to  see  evil. 
This  eye  also  saw  Israel  as  a  people,  and  foresaw 
the  punishment  which  was  to  come  upon  that 
people,  and  make  no  distinction  between  individuals. 
His  vision  did  not  extend  beyond  the  present  life 
to  discern  the  discriminating  awards  of  a  life  beyond 
the  grave.  But  if  the  judges  of  the  people  would 
hate  evil  and  love  good,  and  establish  justice  in  the 
gate,  perhaps  the  God  of  hosts  would  still  be  gracious 
to  a  remnant  of  Joseph.^    Then  would  come  firm  na- 

^  Amos  V.  15.  Joseph  here  means  Israel  in  the  sense  of  the 
northern  kingdom,  exclusive  of  Judah.    One  applies  the  name 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  89 

tional  well-being,  in  which  the  fortunes  of  obedient 
Israel  would  be  adjusted  with  Yahweh's  beneficent 
disposition  toward  his  people.  His  people  indeed  ! 
there  was  the  pivot  of  the  difference  between 
Amos  and  the  moral  blind  in  Israel.  They  looked 
on  Yahweh  as  their  partisan,  their  god  to  help  and 
keep  them;  Amos  also  knew  that  they  were  Yah- 
weh's  people,  led  by  Him  and  known  of  Him ;  but 
for  that  very  reason  Yahweh's  justice  must  visit  on 
them  all  their  iniquities.  A  sad  reversal  here  of 
the  view  so  naturally  popular !  The  people  looked 
foward  to  the  "day  of  Yahweh,"  as  a  day  of 
triumph  I    They  would  find  it  darkness. 

To  give  point  to  his  denunciations,  Amos  set 
forth  Yahweh  as  a  righteous  god,  impartial  and  of 
universal  power,  creator  of  the  world:  "It  is  he 
that  maketh  the  stars ;  who  formeth  the  mountains 
and  createth  wind,  and  declareth  his  thought  to 
man;  maketh  sunrise  and  darkness  and  marcheth 
over  the  heights  of  the  earth;  and  his  name  is 
Yahweh  the  god  of  hosts. 

"He  toucheth  the  earth  and  it  melts,  and  all  who 
dwell  in  it  mourn,  and  it  shall  rise  up  wholly  and 
sink  like  the  River  of  Egypt.  He  it  is  who  buildeth 
his  chambers  in  the  heaven  and  foundeth  his  vault 
upon  the  earth. 

Israel  to  all  the  tribes,  and  then  again  to  the  northern  kingdom, 
separated  from  Judah  after  the  death  of  Solomon.  The  words 
"Ephraim"  and  "Samaria"  apply  to  the  northern  region. 


90  DELIVERANCE 

"Are  ye  not  as  the  sons  of  the  Cushites  to  me,  ye 
sons  of  Israel,  —  saith  Yahweh.  Did  I  not  lead  up 
Israel  from  Egypt,  and  the  Philistines  from  Caphtor, 
and  the  Syrians  from  Kir  ?  Behold,  the  eyes  of 
Yahweh  are  upon  the  sinful  kingdom,  and  I  will 
destroy  it  from  the  face  of  the  earth,  only  I  will  not 
utterly  destroy  the  house  of  Jacob." 

Harsh  indeed  the  message  of  Amos.  His  younger 
contemporary  Hosea  softens  it  through  telling  of  the 
clinging  love  of  Yahweh,  which  will  not  willingly 
cast  ofF  — nay  which  will  draw  Israel  back  to  her 
god,  if  only  that  may  be!  —  "When  Israel  was 
young,  I  loved  him,  and  out  of  Egypt  called  my  son 
hither.  So  much  the  further  have  they  gone  astray; 
to  Baal  they  sacrifice,  and  burn  incense  to  graven 
images.  Yet  I  taught  Ephraim  to  walk,  held  him 
by  his  arms."  The  prophet  knows  that  the  sword 
must  consume  Ephraim's  iniquity,  yet  he  hears 
Yahweh's  voice  crying,  "  Oh  !  how  shall  I  give  thee 
up,  Ephraim  ?  abandon  thee,  Israel  ?  Oh,  how 
shall  I  treat  thee  as  Adma,  make  thee  as  Zeboim  ? 
Mine  heart  is  turned  within  me.  I  will  not  execute 
the  heat  of  mine  anger,  will  not  destroy  Ephraim; 
for  I  am  God,  and  not  man ;   Holy  in  thy  midst." 

Israel  was  as  a  silly  dove,  running  to  and  fro, 
looking  for  aid  now  to  Egypt,  now  to  Assyria.  All 
foolish  wickedness  —  from  the  prophetic  point 
of  view.  Yahweh  will  have  Israel  trust  him  alto- 
gether.    And    his    love,    the    prophet    declares,    is 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  91 

ready  to  attach  itself  anew  to  Israel's  repentance. 
"Return,  O  Israel,  unto  Yahweh  thy  God  !  For 
you  have  stumbled  with  your  guilt.  Take  with  you 
words  of  penitence,  return  and  say  to  Yahweh, 
'Forgive  all  guilt,  and  accept  what  is  good.  We  will 
offer  our  repentant  lips  instead  of  bullocks.  Assyria 
shall  not  save  us,  [Egypt's]  horses  we  will  not  ride, 
nor  any  more  call  the  work  of  our  hands  our  god.' 
*I  will  heal  their .  falling  away,  gladly  love  them; 
for  mine  anger  is  turned  away.  I  will  be  as  dew 
unto  Israel ;  he  shall  blossom  as  the  lily,  and  thrust 
forth  his  roots  as  Lebanon.'" 

Yahweh  is  god  universal;  the  other  gods  are 
nought.  Hosea  says  it  clearly:  "Samaria's  calf! 
a  workman  made  it,  and  it  is  no  god."  This  is 
monotheism,  though  its  scope  may  be  extended  with 
riper  experience.  Hosea's  forecasting  spirit  seems 
to  waver:  by  the  visible  evil  and  approaching 
danger,  he  is  drawn  to  prophesy  destruction;  yet 
Yahweh's  saving  love  endures  —  if  only  the  people 
will  repent ! 

The  mind  of  Hosea,  like  the  mind  of  Amos,  and 
in  general,  the  mind  of  the  Old  Testament  prior 
to  the  Exile,  dwells  in  the  conviction  that  obedience 
to  the  righteous  will  of  Yahweh  will  establish  Israel 
in  safety  and  gladness.  The  righteous  prosper,  — 
that  is  a  basic  conviction.  The  prophetic  adjust- 
ment still  abides  in  this  assurance;  it  has  not  yet 
taken  refuge  in  the  hope  of  a  future  Israel  redeemed 


92  DELIVERANCE 

and  reestablished  in  obedient  communion  with 
Yahweh,  forever  in  their  midst.  Still  less  has  there 
come  the  thought  of  a  recompense  for  the  down- 
trodden righteous  in  the  resurrection  of  the  dead. 
Life  for  these  earlier  prophets  is  altogether  in  the 
body,  though  its  best  part  be  a  communing 
with  Yahweh.  He  upholds  his  people  in  their 
homes,  in  their  comings  and  goings,  their  flock- 
raisings  and  godly  businesses  throughout  their  land, 
and  will  uphold  them  so  long  as  they  obey,  or  for 
his  love's  sake,  perhaps  a  little  longer.  But  Amos 
and  Hosea  see  disobedience  throughout  the  northern 
kingdom  and  foresee  the  ruin  coming  as  its  conse- 
quence from  Assyria.  That  also  will  be  Yahweh's 
act. 

One  doubts  the  validity  of  the  one  horn  or  the 
other  of  the  prophetic  thesis.  Israel  herself  was  to 
learn  that  the  righteous  may  not  prosper,  and  that 
the  ungodly  often  prosper  obviously.  In  these  re- 
spects the  prophetic  adjustment  does  not  satisfy; 
although  the  prophets  in  their  assurance  of  Yahweh, 
their  god,  who  rules  all  nations  in  the  power  of  his 
righteousness,  have  established  what  will  prove 
valid  for  ages. 

Younger  than  Hosea  and  Amos,  the  Judean  Isaiah 
lived  to  see  the  northern  kingdom  fall,  and  a  like 
ruin  threaten  his  own  Jerusalem.  Gifted  of  Yahweh 
beyond  other  men,  and  taught  by  what  he  saw  and 
foresaw,  it  was  his  lot  to  test  the  prophetic  adjust- 


THE    PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL 


93 


ment  already  reached,  invest  it  with  new  glories  of 
imagery  and  new  power  of  expression,  qualify  and 
amplify  it  through  further  consideration  of  its 
conclusions  in  the  light  of  his  knowledge  of  Yahweh 
and  experience  of  disasters  coming  upon  men; 
and  then  deepen  and  enlarge  it  through  the  power 
of  his  genius.  Isaiah's  name  is  hallowed,  not  only 
through  the  utterances  which  were  his,  but  also 
by  reason  of  those  ascribed  to  him,  to  which  have 
clung  the  hopes  of  men.  But  it  is  difficult,  in  the 
changing  lights  of  modern  criticism,  to  decide  which 
portions  of  the  first  thirty-nine  chapters  of  the  great 
prophetic  book  should  be  ascribed  to  this  Judaean, 
whose  eyes  were  stricken  with  the  sight  of  present 
evil,  and  calamities  approaching,  in  the  second  half 
of  the  eighth  century  before  Christ. 

Isaiah's  convictions  as  to  the  character  and 
commands  of  Yahweh  may  be  said  to  combine  those 
of  Amos  and  Hosea.  Only  in  him  monotheism  is 
deepened  and  illuminated.  He  saw  more  clearly 
than  his  elders  that  the  nations  were  but  Yahweh's 
instruments,  rods  of  his  anger,  the  axes  with  which 
God  hews  ;  and  with  scornful  clarity  he  showed 
the  folly  of  presenting  in  expiation  before  Yah- 
weh anything  but  faith  and  righteousness.  Reli- 
ance on  heathen  aid  —  upon  Egypt  —  is  madness. 
Faith  in  Yahweh,  joined  with  right  conduct  and 
freedom  from  idolatries  of  thought  and  act,  are  the 
horsemen  and  the  chariots  of  Judah.     Righteousness 


94  DELIVERANCE 

and  national  well-being  go  together,  are  bone  of 
each  other's  bone,  flesh  of  each  other's  flesh ;  they 
are  included  and  assured  in  obedience  and  faith. 

How  could  Isaiah  doubt  of  this,  knowing  Yahweh 
to  be  righteous  and  all-powerful  and  Israel's  god,  who 
held  Israel  as  sons  reared  by  him,  —  how  could  he 
doubt  but  that  Judah  would  prosper  if  obedient, 
established  in  the  land  which  Yahweh  had  given 
to  his  people  ?  But  Judah's  actual  state  drives  this 
assurance  from  his  mind,  which  perforce  is  filled 
with  realisation  of  the  suicidal  disobedience  and 
folly  of  rulers  and  people,  their  empty  rites  and 
no-gods,  their  sought-for  pleasant  answers  and  wilful 
falsities  of  hope  and  policy,  —  sin  added  to  sin, 
bringing  destruction.  Hence  most  of  the  prophet's 
utterances  are  warnings  and  denunciations  and 
predictions  of  ruin,  now  falling  on  Israel,  soon  to 
fall  on  Judah,  finally  to  fall  upon  that  rod  of  Yah- 
weh's  wrath,  Assyria. 

Is  Isaiah  moved,  a  little  in  the  manner  of  those 
who  afterwards  wrote  marvels  in  his  name,  to 
push  forward  his  hopes,  beyond  the  horizon  of  the 
present,  to  some  assurance  of  future  restoration  or 
individual  blessedness  ?  He  possessed  that  most 
unshaken  of  Old  Testament  convictions,  that  of 
Yahweh's  faith-keeping  with  his  people,  his  mercy 
and  benevolence,  and  his  saving  purpose.  Yahweh 
had  no  more  delight  in  Israel's  disasters  than  in  the 
sins  of  which  they  were  the   result:    he  did  not 


THE   PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  95 

willingly  afflict  or  grieve  his  people.  But  in  those 
closing  decades  of  the  eighth  century,  a  man  with 
Isaiah's  mind  could  not  but  foresee  the  probable 
realisation  of  his  conditional  prediction,  the  down- 
fall of  Judah  as  well  as  of  that  northern  kingdom, 
which  fell  before  he  had  ceased  from  prophesying. 
If  he  expected  Judah's  fall,  must  he  not  modify  his 
hopes,  his  convictions  regarding  Israel,  in  fine  his 
adjustment,  in  order  to  hold  fast  to  his  assurance  of 
Yahweh's  love  and  mercy  ?  Did  it  come  to  him  to 
project  this  assurance  into  the  future,  and  behold  in 
certain  hope  a  restoration,  a  redemption  of  a  people 
now  staggering  to  ruin  ?  Was  it  given  only  to  some 
later  seer,  or  did  Isaiah  foresee  the  time  when 
the  people  who  walked  in  darkness  should  behold 
a  great  light,  when  the  yoke  of  Israel  should  be 
broken,  and  a  child  should  have  been  born  upon 
whose  shoulder  dominion  shall  rest  ?  who  shall 
be  the  Prince  of  Peace  upon  the  throne  of  David, 
and  to  whose  kingdom  there  shall  be  no  end  ?  A 
time  when  a  king  shall  reign  righteously,  and  princes 
rule  justly,  like  water  courses  in  a  parched  land  and 
the  shadow  of  a  high  rock  !  When  the  folly  of  the 
fool  and  the  knavery  of  the  knave  shall  be  laid  bare ; 
but  the  eyes  of  them  that  see  shall  not  be  dim  and 
the  ears  of  them  that  hear  shall  hearken,  and  the 
stammerer's  tongue  speak  plain  ?  ^ 

*  Isaiah  ix.  1-7 ;  xxxii.  1-8. 


96  DELIVERANCE 

If  this  vision  was  not  Isaiah's,  his  refuge  still  was 
Yahweh's  righteousness  to  be  shown  in  the  chasten- 
ing, perhaps  in  the  necessary  destruction  of  his 
people;  for  Isaiah  did  not  advance  to  a  discrimina- 
tion between  the  righteous  Israelites  who  should  be 
saved  and  the  wicked  who  should  perish.  That 
progress  in  the  prophetic  adjustment  was  left  to 
Jeremiah  and  Ezekiel,  —  and  perhaps  to  the  Book 
of  Deuteronomy. 

The  book  last  named  may  have  been  written  not 
very  long  before  the  year  of  Jeremiah's  call  (626  B.C.) 
and  was  "found"  by  Hilkiah  the  high  priest  in  the 
temple  in  the  eighteenth  year  of  Josiah's  reign 
(621  B.C.).  Its  burden  was  the  Covenant  between 
Yahweh  and  his  people;  and  its  exhortation  was  to 
keep  from  graven  images,  from  heathenism,  and 
wickedness,  to  fear  Yahweh,  and  walk  in  all  his 
ways,  and  keep  his  statutes,  and  love  and  serve  him 
alone  with  entire  heart  and  soul  and  strength; 
so  would  Yahweh  fulfil  the  Covenant  which  he 
swore  unto  their  Father  Abraham,  and  unto  them 
at  Horeb  when  he  commanded  them  to  keep  his 
statutes;  then  he  would  make  his  people  blessed 
and  numerous  as  the  stars,  in  the  land  which  he 
had  promised  unto  Abraham.  But  their  covenant  to 
obey  did  not  lie  in  outer  acts  alone;  they  should 
circumcise  the  foreskin  of  their  heart.  And  al- 
though the  time-honoured  thought  of  visiting  the 
sins  of  the  fathers  upon  the  children  is  retained  as 


THE   PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  97 

of  course  in  the  Deuteronomic  decalogue,  neverthe- 
less in  that  book  Yahweh's  statutes  are  brought 
home  to  every  IsraeHte,  making  him  individually- 
responsible  for  his  acts :  "The  fathers  shall  not  be 
put  to  death  for  the  children,  neither  shall  the  chil- 
dren be  put  to  death  for  the  fathers,  every  man  shall 
be  put  to  death  for  his  own  sin."  ^  Thus  the  book 
seems  to  set  before  each  man,  as  well  as  before  the 
nation,  life  and  death,  the  blessing  and  the  curse, 
that  the  people  and  every  one  of  them  may  choose 
life,  to  love  Yahweh  and  cleave  to  him,  as  their 
life  and  length  of  days,  so  that  they  may  dwell  in 
the  land  promised  to  their  fathers. 

Composed  during  the  flickerings  out  of  kingship 
in  Judah,  Deuteronomy  still  earnestly  treats  the 
people  as  a  nation,  still  exhorts  them  to  the  per- 
fected fulfilment  of  Yahweh's  statutes,  and  to  the 
final  obedience  of  love.  And  the  king,  Josiah,  under- 
took a  reform  and  purification  of  his  kingdom  accord- 
ing to  the  mandates  of  this  new-found  book.^  But 
the  end  could  not  be  averted.  Josiah  was  but  a 
child  when  he  began  to  reign,  and  to  reward  his 
youthful  reforming  righteousness,  Yahweh  held 
back  the  ruin  of  his  kingdom  for  the  little  while 
until  he  should  sleep  with  his  fathers.  The  pro- 
phetic work  of  Jeremiah  began  in  the  thirteenth  year 
of  Josiah;    it  continued  forty  years,  through  the 

*  Deut.  xxiv.  16.     See  Deut.  v.  9,  and  Ex.  xx.  5  and  xxxiv.  7. 

*  2  Kings  xxii.  and  xxiii. 


98  DELIVERANCE 

foolish  reigns  of  the  last  kinglets.  He  saw  the  first 
siege  of  Jerusalem  and  the  carrying  into  exile  of  its 
better  part  (597  B.C.) ;  and  eleven  years  later  the  final 
destruction  of  the  city  by  the  Chaldaeans.  Judging 
from  the  general  tone  of  Jeremiah's  admonitions,  the 
reforms  of  Josiah  had  but  scratched  the  surface  of 
Judah's  guilt;  perhaps  they  had  helped  to  blow  up 
the  false  hope  that  an  observance  of  ritual  would 
ward  off  the  Babylonian  attack. 

Jeremiah  was  not  born  in  the  city,  but  in  a  village 
a  few  miles  to  the  north.  One  may  think  of  him  as 
a  young,  well-nurtured  countryman  abruptly  struck 
with  the  luxury  and  corruption  of  the  capital ;  and 
yet  he  was  not  more  impressed  by  it  than  the  high- 
born and  city-bred  Isaiah  had  been  before  him. 
This  country  youth,  in  spite  of  his  bashful  sense  of 
his  own  ineptitude,  knows  that  he  is  chosen,  even 
before  he  came  forth  from  the  womb,  to  be  a  "  brazen 
wall  against  the  kings  of  Judah,  the  princes  and  the 
common  people." 

It  is  largely  the  old,  old  story  of  denunciation 
of  idolatry,  luxury,  wickedness  —  of  so  much  that 
made  the  common  round  of  life  in  town  and  country. 
Such  admonitions  reached  their  final  Cassandra  stri- 
dency in  the  utterances  of  this  man  who  realised 
the  shifty  folly  of  Judean  politics  and  foresaw  their 
consequences.  And  yet  how  could  a  little  crumbling 
state  do  otherwise  than  turn  from  one  to  another  of 
its  dominant  neighbours,  according  to  the  apparent 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  99 

shifting  of  power  ?  The  affairs  of  western  Asia  and 
Egypt  were  in  a  flux  as  the  seventh  century  ended 
and  the  sixth  began  —  when  Scythians  had  made 
breaches  in  the  Assyrian  empire,  and  the  Medes 
had  entered  therein;  when  Babylon  had  risen  to 
the  south,  strong  and  independent,  and  a  dynastic 
revolution  had  made  Egypt  for  the  time  aggressive, 
yet  had  not  given  her  the  strength  to  stand  against 
the  arms  of  Babylon. 

The  emotional  and  one  might  say  overwrought 
utterances  of  this  prophet  have  sustained  the  tradi- 
tion of  a  man  of  contention  and  lament,  who  was 
wont  to  curse  the  day  of  his  birth,  because  of  the 
burden  of  his  life  and  his  prophetic  office;  who 
frequently  besought  Yahweh  to  avenge  him  of  his 
enemies,  —  deliver  over  their  children  to  famine, 
their  young  men  to  the  sword,  their  wives  to  widow- 
hood. He  was  beset  with  danger  and  contumely, 
mobbed  in  his  own  village,  in  the  capital  cast  into  a 
putrid  cistern,  again  imprisoned,  threatened  with 
death ;  all  of  which  quite  naturally  was  put  upon  one 
who  would  prophesy  nothing  but  evil,  and  appeared 
in  Jerusalem's  streets  with  a  yoke  upon  his  neck  to 
signify  the  yoke  which  Nebuchadnezzar  would  set 
on  the  neck  of  Judah.  In  the  end  when  the  last 
weak  king  had  rebelled  against  the  overlord  to  whom 
he  had  pledged  his  fealty,  Jeremiah  advised  men  to 
escape  from  the  city  and  seek  safety  in  the  Chaldaean 
camp.     He   himself  attempted  to  go  out,  but  was 


lOO  DELIVERANCE 

arrested  at  the  gate.  Surely  some  fear  of  Yahweh 
must  have  lain  on  king  and  princes,  that  they  did 
not  kill  such  a  grievously  clear-seeing  man  ! 

How  could  Jeremiah  cherish  any  present  hope  of 
the  people  of  Judah  ?  Weeping,  he  had  implored 
Yahweh,  and  Yahweh  had  answered  that  though 
Moses  and  Samuel  should  plead  for  them,  yet 
would  he  cast  them  forth  (Jer.  xv.  i).  So,  fore- 
seeing their  destruction  as  a  nation,  and  the  de- 
struction of  that  symbol  of  nationality,  the  Temple, 
Jeremiah  reached  the  conception  of  a  further  adjust- 
ment. His  faith  discriminates;  let  the  wicked 
perish  and  the  righteous  live.  If  Yahweh  indeed 
was  known  as  a  god  to  "recompense  the  iniquity 
of  the  fathers  into  the  bosoms  of  the  children," 
still  would  not  the  time  come  when  it  should  no 
more  be  said  that  the  fathers  have  eaten  sour  grapes 
and  the  children's  teeth  are  set  on  edge  .?  when, 
rather,  every  man  should  die  for  his  own  iniquity  ? 
But  then  would  not  Yahweh's  covenant  be  broken  ? 
—  at  least,  how  could  its  counter-conditions  be  ful- 
filled by  a  nation  which  was  to  be  destroyed  before 
the  prophet's  eyes  ?  Jeremiah's  conception,  if  it  still 
remained  national,  became  spiritual ;  and  he  found 
his  grand  adjustment  in  a  new  covenant  between 
Yahweh  and  the  House  of  Israel,  not  like  the 
covenant  made  with  their  fathers  when  he  brought 
them  out  of  the  land  of  Egypt  —  which  they  broke  : 

"But  this  is  the  covenant  that  I  will  make  with 


THE   PROPHETS  OF   ISRAEL  lOI 

the  House  of  Israel,  after  those  days,  says  Yahweh. 
I  will  put  my  law  in  their  breast,  and  write  it  in 
their  hearts,  and  I  will  be  their  God  and  they  shall 
be  my  people.  And  they  shall  teach  no  more 
every  man  his  neighbour  and  every  man  his  brother, 
saying.  Know  Yahweh,  for  they  shall  all  know  me, 
from  the  least  of  them  to  the  greatest  of  them,  says 
Yahweh ;  for  I  will  forgive  their  iniquity  and  I  will 
remember  their  sin  no  more." 

This  new  Covenant  is  with  the  House  of  Israel. 
But  it  is  written  on  the  heart  of  every  Israelite, 
and  not  on  tablets  of  stone  set  in  a  public  place. 
Can  we  say  that  the  House  of  Israel  consists  of  those 
in  whose  hearts  this  righteousness  is  written,  rather 
than  of  those  who  are  born  Israelites  ?  Or  shall  it 
be  that  all  who  are  of  that  stock  in  those  days  will 
be  righteous  ?  Jeremiah  looked  forward  certainly 
to  Israel's  restoration,  and  symbolised  his  assurance 
by  purchasing  his  uncle's  field,  and  putting  the  deed 
away  to  remain  for  years  to  come,  when,  as  Yahweh 
said.  Houses  and  fields  and  vineyards  should  be 
possessed  again  in  the  land.  His  book  has  proph- 
ecies of  future  restoration.  Some  of  them  may 
not  have  been  uttered  by  this  man  who  saw  Judah's 
ruin  and  the  carrying  away  of  her  sons.  But  as  he 
heard  the  voice  in  Ramah  of  Rachel  weeping  for 
her  children  and  refusing  to  be  comforted,  so  he 
also  heard  Yahweh  bidding  him  cry:  Refrain  thy 
voice   from   weeping   and    thine   eyes    from   tears; 


102  DELIVERANCE 

for  they  shall  come  again  from  the  land  of  the 
enemy,  and  thy  children  shall  return  —  Ephraim 
as  well  as  Judah. 

There  is  a  noble  consideration  of  the  ways  of  God 
in  the  third  poem  of  that  book  of  Dirges  so  long 
ascribed  to  Jeremiah,  and  composed  after  the  city's 
fall.  Yahweh's  hand  has  been  heavy  on  the  speaker 
and  on  Judah,  but  his  soul  chants,  —  "it  is  of 
Yahweh's  mercies  that  we  are  not  utterly  consumed, 
because  his  compassions  fail  not.  They  are  new 
every  morning :  great  is  thy  faithfulness.  Yahweh  is 
my  portion,  saith  my  soul ;  therefore  will  I  hope  in 
him.  ...  It  is  good  that  a  man  should  both  hope 
and  quietly  wait  on  the  salvation  of  Yahweh.  .  .  . 
For  Yahweh  will  not  cast  off  forever  ...  for  he 
doth  not  afflict  willingly  nor  grieve  the  children  of 
men.  .  .  .  Let  us  search  and  try  our  ways  and 
turn  again  to  Yahweh.  .  .  .  Mine  eye  runneth 
down  with  rivers  of  water  for  the  destruction  of  the 
daughter  of  my  people.  ...  I  called  upon  thy  name, 
O  Yahweh,  out  of  the  low  dungeon.  Thou  heardest 
my  voice.  ...  O  Yahweh,  thou  hast  pleaded  the 
causes  of  my  soul ;  thou  hast  redeemed  my  life." 

Was  any  people  ever  so  spiritually  quickened  by 
tribulation  as  the  Jews  .?  They  reached  their  highest 
thoughts  of  God,  of  their  god,  Yahweh,  only  when  he 
had  cast  them  down  in  exile.  It  was  then  that  they 
conceived  more  clearly  the  duties  of  their  fealty  and 
the  privileges  of  their  hope  in  him.     They  realised 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  103 

not  only  his  sole  sovereignty  over  all  the  peoples  of 
the  earth,  but  also  his  purpose,  in  that  they  were  to 
be  his  people  not  for  themselves  alone,  but  for  the 
glory  of  his  name  and  as  a  light  to  the  nations. 
Ezekiel,  the  priest  prophet,  and  the  great  unnamed 
ones  whose  utterances  make  part  of  the  Book  of 
Isaiah,  present  these  latter  stages  of  the  prophetic 
adjustment,  the  last  before  prophecy  became  what 
is  called  apocalyptic. 

The  idea  of  individual  responsibility  is  set  forth  in 
Ezekiel's  eighteenth  chapter:  "Behold  all  souls  are 
mine ;  as  the  soul  of  the  father,  so  also  the  soul  of 
the  son  is  mine  :  the  soul  that  sinneth,  it  shall  die. . . . 
The  son  shall  not  bear  the  iniquity  of  the  father, 
neither  shall  the  father  bear  the  iniquity  of  the  son : 
the  righteousness  of  the  righteous  shall  be  upon 
him,  and  the  wickedness  of  the  wicked  shall  be  upon 
him.  But  if  the  wicked  will  turn  from  all  his  sins 
that  he  has  committed,  and  keep  all  my  statutes, 
and  do  that  which  is  lawful  and  right,  he  shall  surely 
live,  he  shall  not  die.  .  .  .  Have  I  any  pleasure  in  the 
death  of  the  wicked  ?  .  .  .  But  when  a  righteous 
man  turneth  away  from  his  righteousness,  and  com- 
mitteth  iniquity,  he  shall  die."  Ezekiel's  own 
righteousness  was  to  be  that  of  a  watchman  to  the 
House  of  Israel,  to  warn  the  wicked  man  from  his 
way  —  and  if  he  turn  not  from  his  wickedness,  he 
shall  die :   but  thou  hast  saved  thyself.^ 

^Cf.  Ez.  Hi.  16-21;  xiv.  9-20;  xxxiii.  1-9. 


I04  DELIVERANCE 

Thus  explicitly,  with  more  emphasis  than  clarity, 
the  principle  of  individual  responsibility  thrusts 
itself  to  the  front  of  Ezekiel's  adjustment.  Yet 
his  interest  still  centres  in  Israel  as  a  people;  as  is 
evident  in  the  promises  which  follow  of  future  res- 
toration when  Yahweh  shall  make  a  covenant  of 
peace  with  his  ill-shepherded  flock,  and  set  over  them 
my  servant  David.  The  tenor  of  this  restoration, 
with  its  forgiveness  and  its  spiritual  regeneration, 
are  set  forth :  "  Son  of  man,  when  the  house  of 
Israel  dwelt  in  their  own  land,  they  defiled  it  by 
their  ways  and  doings  .  .  .  wherefore  I  poured  out 
my  fury  upon  them  .  .  .  and  I  scattered  them 
among  the  nations.  And  when  they  came  among 
the  nations,  they  profaned  my  holy  name.  .  .  . 
Therefore  say  unto  the  house  of  Israel,  I  do  not  this 
for  your  sake,  O  house  of  Israel,  but  for  my  holy 
name,  which  ye  have  profaned  among  the  nations 
whither  ye  have  gone.  And  I  will  sanctify  my  great 
name  .  .  .  which  ye  have  profaned,  and  the  nations 
shall  know  that  I  am  Yahweh.  .  .  .  For  I  will 
take  you  from  the  nations,  and  gather  you  out 
of  all  countries,  and  will  bring  you  into  your 
own  land.  And  I  will  sprinkle  clean  water  upon 
you,  and  ye  shall  be  clean.  ...  A  new  heart 
also  will  I  give  you,  and  a  new  spirit  will  I  put  within 
you.  .  .  .  And  I  will  put  my  spirit  within  you,  and 
cause  you  to  walk  in  my  statutes,  and  ye  shall  keep 
my  judgements,  and  do  them.     And  ye  shall  dwell 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  105 

in  the  land  that  I  gave  to  your  fathers;  and  ye 
shall  be  my  people,  and  I  will  be  your  God.  .  .  . 
Then  shall  ye  remember  your  evil  ways  .  .  .  and 
ye  shall  loath  yourselves  in  your  own  sight  for  your 
iniquities  and  abominations"  (Ez.  xxxvi.)- 

The  vision  of  the  valley  of  dry  bones  reclothed 
with  flesh  symbolises  the  character  of  the  restoration 
—  the  dry  bones  both  of  (northern)  Israel  and  Judah 
shall  be  made  one  nation  in  the  land,  under  one  king. 
Then  Yahweh's  victory  shall  follow  over  the  nations 
who  assault  his  people.  After  this  comes  the  build- 
ing of  that  temple,  so  elaborately  described,  in  which 
Yahweh  shall  forever  dwell,  in  his  people's  midst. 

In  Ezekiel's  closed  and  priestly  mind,  this  restora- 
tion is  of  the  people  of  Israel ;  and  the  Temple  is 
for  their  god,  exclusively  for  him  and  them.  The 
nations  have  no  share.  Yahweh's  service  is  purified 
from  every  gentile  taint,  even  from  lay  participation, 
and  is  confided  to  the  holy  priesthood;  his  ritual 
becomes  as  strict  as  the  statutory  righteousness  which 
he  demands  of  his  people.  EzekieFs  adjustment 
was  formal  and  for  Israel  alone ;  and  his  ideals  were 
to  dominate  the  legalistic  phases  of  later  Judaism. 
But  others  spoke  more  universal  hopes,  and  other 
minds  than  that  of  this  priest-prophet  applied 
themselves  to  the  mystery  of  the  connexion  between 
righteousness  or  sin  and  the  prosperity  or  misery  of 
the  righteous  or  sinning  individual  or  people.  From 
the  period  of  the  exile,  the  Old  Testament  writings 


Io6  DELIVERANCE 

may  be  regarded  as  a  literature  of  adjustment  of 
the  facts  and  hopes  of  Israel,  of  the  Israelites,  of 
universal  man,  with  the  power  and  the  steadfastly 
assumed  righteousness  of  God. 

It  is  difficult  not  to  regard  the  Exile  as  providen- 
tial. Who  has  not  realised  how  in  some  way  he,  or 
she,  has  learned  through  tribulation  ?  From  suffer- 
ing, wisdom,  said  ^schylus.  Israel  furnishes  na- 
tional illustration  of  the  theme.  For  centuries 
they  had  felt  themselves  a  people,  delivered  and 
preserved  through  the  power  of  their  righteous  god, 
whose  special  care  they  were;  he  had  established 
them  for  ever  in  the  land  which  he  had  covenanted 
to  them.  Now  this  people,  and,  more  especially, 
that  better  part  which  most  keenly  felt  itself  Israel, 
had  been  taken  from  their  heritage  to  labour  as  a 
captive  community  in  the  midst  of  their  overweening 
enemies.  It  was  for  them  to  brood  upon  their 
lot  as  a  people  collectively  chastened,  punished, 
cast  out  by  their  god,  —  for  a  time  ?  forever  ? 
with  what  intent  ? — or  they  might  muse  upon  God's 
treatment  of  the  individual,  the  good  or  wicked  man. 
How  was  Israel  to  be  repaired,  restored  again,  in  some 
conformity  with  these  exiles'  unshakable  conviction  of 
Yahweh's  power  and  righteousness  and  peculiar  care 
of  his  people  ?  And,  considering  like  matters  less 
nationally,  more  particularly,  how  reconcile  God's 
justice  with  the  divers  lots  of  men  ?  and  having 
regard    to   this   more   individual    adjustment,    how 


THE   PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  107 

teach  man  to  conduct  his  life  ?  Struggling  for  the 
solution  of  these  problems,  certain  Israelites,  either 
of  the  Exile  or  still  dwelling  in  an  orphaned  land, 
reached  the  sublimest  expression  of  their  faith  in 
Yahweh*s  righteousness  and  love.  Their  solutions 
did  not  rest  on  human  wisdom  and  energy.  Yahweh 
did  all,  inspired  the  thoughts  of  men,  fulfilled  or 
frustrated  them,  and  brought  to  pass  the  destinies  of 
nations. 

With  the  fall  of  Jerusalem  and  the  extinction  of 
every  ray  of  present  national  hope,  those  whose 
minds  clung  to  the  destinies  of  Israel  were  forced 
to  look  far  into  the  future  and  draw  their  peace  from 
thoughts  of  redemption  and  restoration.  It  was 
partly  thus  with  Jeremiah  and  wholly  thus  with 
Ezekiel.  And  when  Jerusalem's  fall  brought  further 
bands  of  exiles  to  Babylon,  the  nation  of  Israel 
seemed  broken  into  small  communities  settled  in 
the  midst  of  alien  multitudes.  The  restoration  of 
such  bands  to  national  integrity  and  territorial 
power  in  far-off  Judea  gradually  lost  material  likeli- 
hood. Yahweh  could  accomplish  even  this;  but 
his  purposes  were  clothed  with  the  majesty  of 
righteousness.  Israel's  restoration  must  be  such 
as  to  exemplify  the  character,  sublime  and  spiritual, 
of  the  god  of  all  the  earth.  Evidently  Yahweh's 
purpose,  as  his  power,  was  of  world-wide  scope. 
It  would  not  simply  restore  Israel  to  what  she  was 
before  :  her  restoration  must  be  an  incident,  a  means 


I08  DELIVERANCE 

for  the  accomplishment  of  Yahweh's  universal 
plan  of  righteousness.  In  consonance  with  these 
necessities  of  thought,  the  idealising  prophets  of 
the  Exile  raised  and  sanctified  their  conceptions 
of  Israel's  restoration  and  final  destinies. 

It  were  futile  to  set  forth  the  adjustments  of 
Israel's  destinies  with  Yahweh's  character  and 
purposes  as  conceived  in  the  exilic  portions  of  the 
Book  of  Isaiah,  save  in  those  words  and  images 
which  have  compelled  men's  imaginations  and 
spoken  their  most  sacred  hopes  for  the  last  two 
thousand  years.  The  imagery  clothing  the  thought 
and  feeling  of  these  writings  has  lent  itself  to  the 
plastic  conceptions  of  successive  and  diverse  genera- 
tions. Representing  the  highest  truth  of  poetic 
expression,  it  does  not  gain  in  clarity  by  analytic 
restatement.  Yet  we  may  recall  the  background 
of  these  utterances.  In  certain  chapters  of  the 
first  part  of  Isaiah  (whether  he  be  their  author,  or 
another)  Yahweh  works  his  purpose  with  a  re- 
deemed and  sanctified  Israel,  through  a  king  of 
David's  line  whose  righteousness  is  Yahweh's 
righteousness,  and  whose  power  is  Yahweh's  power.^ 
Unto  him  shall  the  nations  seek.  This  idea  was 
natural  before  David's  house  had  fallen  utterly, 
and  it  continued  long  afterwards  to  move  men  in 
whom  the  memory  of  that  house  was  strong.  Yet 
as  one  decade  of  servitude  succeeded  another,  and 
*  Is.  ix.,  xi.,  xxxii.     Cf.  the  much  disputed  Zech.  ix. 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  109 

the  hope  of  a  royal  embodiment  of  Yahweh's  rule 
waned  with  the  exiles,  it  was  replaced  by  a  counter- 
thought  of  profounder  religious  content.  Righteous 
kings,  prophets,  and  priests  had  held  themselves 
and  the  people  also  to  be  Yahweh's  servants.  As 
their  religion  rose  to  the  thought  of  one  righteous 
God  of  all  the  earth,  the  conception  of  their  service 
rose  in  correspondence.  Serving  Yahweh  meant 
serving  his  design  of  world-wide  redemption.  In 
Babylon,  Jews  were  not  kings,  but  servants :  the 
visible  servitude  of  their  condition  might  suggest 
new  aspects  of  their  destiny  and  mission.  If 
Israel  was  to  be  redeemed  and  restored,  might  it 
not  be  in  the  role  of  Yahweh's  servant,  at  a  time 
when  Yahweh's  name  should  be  honoured  throughout 
the  earth  ? 

In  many  ways  thoughts  of  peace  and  blessedness, 
springing  from  free  responsive  service,  would  touch 
devoted  minds,  whose  conviction  of  Yahweh's 
righteousness  had  never  faltered.  A  service  of 
universal  mediation  was  disclosed;  and  thoughts 
came  of  atonement  through  suffering,  atonement 
for  Israel  and  for  the  sinful  nations ;  then  an  assur- 
ance of  forgiveness,  of  redemption  and  restoration 
within  the  scope  of  Yahweh's  purposes,  and  of  final 
peace  and  comforting  through  Yahweh's  presence 
in  a  redeemed  Israel.  Service  and  atonement  would 
be  sanctified  in  blessedness,  and  rewarded  with 
pre-eminence  among  the  nations. 


no  DELIVERANCE 

A  very  marvellous  adjustment,  or  series  of  adjust- 
ments, is  unfolded  by  the  prophet,  or  prophets,  of 
the  last  twenty-seven  chapters  of  the  Book  of  Isaiah. 
It  is  an  adjustment  with  God,  and  is  brought  to  pass 
through  Yahweh's  forgiveness,  his  redeeming  love, 
and  the  power  of  his  spirit  moving  the  destinies  of 
men,  and  acting  within  their  hearts.  Israel  (not 
as  the  prophet  knows  her  to  be,  but  as  he  dreamed 
of  her)  acts  and  suffers  in  obedience  and  responsive 
love.  It  is  Yahweh  who  redeems  her  surely,  and 
compels  the  nations  to  his  ends.  Yahweh  omnipo- 
tent in  the  world,  the  sole  power  that  accomplishes ; 
also  resistless  in  the  heart,  wakening  its  ear  morning 
by  morning.  He  bruises  his  servant,  makes  him 
one  to  bear  men's  sicknesses,  and  the  sin  of  many, 
and  lay  down  his  soul  an  offering  for  guilt.  In  his 
service  the  Servant  is  very  close  to  Yahweh,  who  had 
been  afflicted  in  all  the  afflictions  of  his  people, 
had  cried  out  like  a  woman  in  travail,  and  had 
drawn  into  his  passionate  redemptive  purpose  this 
Servant,  in  order  to  make  many  righteous,  and 
thereby  make  redemption  possible  for  Israel  and 
the  nations.  The  willingness  to  suffer  !  the  Servant 
has  this  in  common  with  his  God.  As  he  has  been 
bruised  and  his  visage  marred,  so  from  the  travail 
of  his  soul  shall  he  also  be  satisfied,  when  there  shall 
be  proclaimed  "an  acceptable  year  of  Yahweh,  and 
a  day  of  vengeance  of  our  God;  to  comfort  the 
mournful  ones  of  Zion,  to  give  them  oil  of  joy  for 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  III 

the  raiment  of  mourning.  .  .  .  And  they  shall 
build  up  the  ruins  of  old,  and  renew  the  wasted  cities. 
.  .  .  And  strangers  shall  stand  and  feed  your  flocks, 
shall  be  your  ploughmen  and  vine-dressers;  but  ye, 
priests  of  Yahweh  shall  ye  be  called;  men  shall 
name  you  the  messengers  of  our  God ;  ye  shall  eat 
the  riches  of  the  nations  and  make  your  boast  of 
their  glory." 

Tumultuous  words  these,  and  many  more:  ven- 
geance on  the  oppressor,  restoration,  triumph,  and 
priestly  mediation  to  the  nations,  of  whose  riches 
the  redeemed  shall  eat.  Tumultuous  thoughts! 
The  vision  of  Yahweh  overcomes  at  last:  "Hark 
thy  watchmen  !  They  lift  up  their  voice  :  they  cry 
together,  for  they  see  eye  to  eye  the  return  of  Yahweh 
to  Zion."  Threats  and  promises  mingle  to  the  end 
of  the  prophecy,  and  world-wide  mediation  follows 
upon  Israel's  victory,  through  her  god,  over  her 
enemies.  But  the  wicked  ones  of  Israel  shall  also  be 
cut  off,  and  not  impede  the  salvation  of  the  faithful. 
"I  will  create  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth  .  .  . 
and  I  will  exult  in  Jerusalem  and  rejoice  in  my 
people."  Rites  and  sacrifices  shall  be  nothing. 
"Thus  saith  Yahweh :  Heaven  is  my  throne,  and 
the  earth  is  my  footstool;  what  manner  of  house 
would  ye  build  me  .?  and  where  is  the  place  of  my 
habitation  ?  All  these  my  hand  has  made,  and  all 
these  are  mine.  But  I  have  regard  for  him  that  is 
of  a  poor  and  contrite  spirit,  and  trembles  at  my 


112  DELIVERANCE 

word."  Tumultuous  words  !  But  the  infinity  and 
spirituality  of  God  pierces  through  them,  and  the 
comfort  of  the  Servant's  presence  with  his  god. 

It  is  still  the  redemption  of  the  nation  that  is 
borne  in  mind,  though  its  chaff  will  be  sifted  from  its 
wheat.  The  prophet  who  is  speaking  is  very  near 
to  Yahweh,  folded  in  the  assurance  of  his  presence. 
Likewise  the  Servant,  whether  that  Servant  be  an 
individual  or  an  ideal  Israel.  This  intimate  assur- 
ance is  the  stronghold  of  his  peace  and  freedom.  His 
also  is  that  holding  close  to  God,  that  passionate 
adjustment  which  fills  the  Psalter  and  makes  it  the 
supplement  and  completion  of  the  exhortations  and 
the  warnings  of  the  prophets,  —  an  adjustment  held 
in  religious  feeling,  and  resting  on  the  assurance  of 
God  and  the  sense  that  man's  vital  relationship  with 
God  is  sufficient  for  him.  Since  He  moves  and 
surely  governs  all,  and  holds  man  in  His  hand, 
even  to  His  heart,  making  man  to  be  part  of  the 
divine  purpose  and  event,  then  come  what  may, 
welfare  or  misery,  life  or  death,  nothing  can  divide 
man  from  the  rock  of  his  salvation,  the  living  God. 

The  Psalms  set  forth  God's  greatness,  righteous- 
ness, spirituality,  his  compassion  and  loving-kind- 
ness. But  their  veritable  theme  is  the  consciousness 
of  man  before  his  God.  The  emotions  of  the  Psalmist 
may  be  occasioned  by  the  incidents  of  human  lots ; 
but  they  spring  from  man's  realisation  of  the  over- 
whelming relationship  of  God  to  man.     The  Psalms 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  113 

express  the  Israelite's  sense  of  self  before  Yahweh,  — 
a  sense  of  shortcoming,  but  sometimes  of  integrity ; 
a  sense  of  littleness  before  Yahweh's  grandeur,  of 
impotence  beneath  Yahweh's  power,  of  awe  before 
Yahweh's  works  :  and  then  a  sense  of  the  desolation 
which  is  severance  from  God.  There  presses  to 
utterance  the  fear  of  Yahweh,  love  of  Yahweh,  zeal 
and  jealousy  for  him,  and  yearning  for  his  presence : 
with  these  come  repentance  and  turning  from  sin,  a 
longing  to  be  pure  in  Yahweh's  sight,  and  to  be 
forgiven;  a  longing  for  God's  love,  even  for  His 
sympathy.  Thus  the  nature  of  man  in  its  whole 
compass,  sets  as  the  tide  toward  God,  to  be  met  by 
the  flooding  sense  of  God's  loving-kindness  and  the 
majesty  of  his  ways.  Any  feeling  of  the  untoward 
lot  of  the  Psalmist  is  blotted  out. 

How  shall  Yahweh  not  be  enough  for  man  ? 

"O  Yahweh,  thou  hast  searched  me  and  known  me; 
Thou  knowest  my  downsitting  and  my  uprising. 
Thou  understandest  my  thought  afar  off. 

**  Such  knowledge  is  too  wonderful  for  me. 
It  is  too  high,  I  cannot  attain  unto  it. 
Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy  spirit  ? 
Or  whither  shall  I  flee  from  thy  presence  ? 
If  I  climb  up  into  heaven,  thou  art  there. 
If  I  take  the  wings  of  the  morning, 
If  I  dwell  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea, 
Even  there  shall  thy  hand  lead  me, 
And  thy  right  hand  shall  hold  me. 


114  DELIVERANCE 

**  And  how  precious  unto  me  are  thy  thoughts,  O  God  ! 
How  great  is  the  sum  of  them  ! 
If  I  would  tell  them  they  are  more  in  number  than  the 

sands ; 
When  I  awake,  I  am  still  with  thee." 

Truly  can  the  Psalmist  exclaim :  Thy  loving- 
kindness  is  better  than  life;  and  can  realise  how 
God's  love  covers  all :  Thou  makest  the  outgoings  of 
the  morning  to  sing  for  joy.  And  as  for  life's 
hard  phases : 

"  Fret  not  thyself  because  of  evil-doers  ! 
Hold  thee  still  for  Yahweh,  and  hope  in  him." 

Yahweh's  sufficiency,  —  to  abide  in  that  is  the  life 
of  the  righteous  :  and  what  part  have  the  wicked  in 
the  felt  presence  of  the  living  God  .? 

**Like  as  a  hart  which  panteth  after  the  water-brooks, 
So  panteth  my  soul  after  thee,  O  God." 

The  Psalter  has  also  its  depths  of  woe :  My  God, 
my  God  !  why  has  thou  forsaken  me  ?  The  melan- 
cholia, the  depression  when  man  feels  forsaken  of  God, 
this  is  the  Psalmist's  grief,  which  crushes  other  woes. 
Beneath  it,  his  thoughts  seem  to  break  in  sorrow, 
and  suggest  a  bitter  lack  of  the  assurance  of  a  life 
beyond  the  grave.  It  would  seem  so  in  the  eighty- 
eighth  psalm. 

**0  Yahweh,  God  of  my  salvation, 
I  have  cried  day  and  night  before  thee. 
Let  my  prayer  come  before  thee. 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  1 15 

Incline  thine  ear  to  my  cry. 

For  my  soul  is  full  of  troubles, 

And  my  life  draweth  near  unto  the  grave. 

I  am  counted  with  them  that  go  down  into  the  pit, 

"Whom  thou  rememberest  no  more. 

•         ....•••■• 
Wilt  thou  shew  wonders  to  the  dead  ? 
Shall  the  dead  arise  and  praise  thee  ? 
Shall  thy  loving-kindness  be  told  in  the  grave  ? 

"  And  thy  righteousness  in  the  land  of  forgetfulness  ? 

"Why,  O  Yahweh,  casteth  thou  off  my  soul  ?" 

Yet  even  without  this  further  hope,  the  Psalmist, 
save  in  black  moments,  conquers  through  his  faith, 
which  is  a  realisation  of  Yahweh  —  and  of  man. 
That  is  the  Psalmist's  adjustment.  But  a  lack  of 
this  assurance  keeps  the  Book  of  Job  from  presenting 
an  adjustment  for  souls  torn  by  the  question,  why 
does  the  righteous  man  suffer  ?  The  Book  remains, 
in  the  eye  of  reason,  a  majestic  statement  of  the 
problem.  Yet  in  Job,  as  in  the  Psalms,  if  Yahweh's 
majesty  does  not  satisfy  the  sufferer's  longings,  it 
overwhelms  his  mind  and  closes  his  mouth. 

Stung  by  the  ruthless  one-sided  arguments  of  the 
friends,  Job  flings  himself  upon  his  thought  of  God, 
his  determination  to  be  justified  by  Him,  —  if  not 
now,  hereafter.  From  beneath  the  surges  of  his 
afflictions,  the  thought  of  God  in  His  infinite  works 


Il6  DELIVERANCE 

lifts  the  sufferer  above  his  doubts  of  God's  righteous- 
ness: 

"  Lo,  these  are  but  the  outskirts  of  his  ways, 
And  how  small  a  whisper  do  we  hear  of  him  ! 
But  the  thunder  of  his  power,  who  can  understand  ? " 

Job  is  confident  that,  though  the  righteous  may- 
suffer,  it  is  not  well  with  the  wicked,  whose  cry  shall 
surely  be  unheard  of  Him  who  decrees  that  for  man 
the  fear  of  Yahweh  is  wisdom,  and  to  depart  from 
evil  is  understanding.  That  furthest  wisdom, 
which  is  Yahweh*s  plan  and  understanding,  is  His 
alone.  The  sufferer  is  mastered  by  his  yearning  for 
restored  communion :  he  is  ready  for  that  vision  of 
power  which  is  Yahweh's  answer  from  the  whirl- 
wind. Man,  dost  thou  know,  dost  thou  possess, 
anything  wherewith  to  plumb  the  ways  of  God  ? 
"Now  that  mine  eyes  have  seen  thee,"  is  Job's 
answer,  "I  abhor  myself  and  repent  in  dust  and 
ashes." 

Such  is  Job's  adjustment  —  though  the  Hebrew 
sense  of  fitness  insisted  that  the  book  should  end 
with  Yahweh's  giving  Job  "twice  as  much  as  he  had 
before."! 

Unavoidably  the  prophetic  adjustment  or  situa- 
tion, the  adjustment  in  the  Psalms,  and  the  crushing 
answer  to  Job's  problem,  all  moved  together  toward 

^  In  its  practical  gnomic  way  the  teaching  of  the  Book  of 
Proverbs  parallels  the  argumentation  of  the  Book  of  Job. 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  117 

the  completion  which  one  and  all  implicitly  de- 
manded, that  is  to  say  toward  the  supplementing  of 
earthly  life  with  a  life  beyond  the-  grave.  This 
aspiration  dawns  through  Job's  agonies,  and  here 
and  there  touches  the  surface  in  the  Psalter.  In  the 
nineteenth  verse  of  the  twenty-sixth  chapter  of 
Isaiah,  written  in  the  fourth  or  fifth  century  before 
Christ,  the  resurrection  of  the  dead  is  plainly  stated, 
and  more  elaborately  in  the  still  later  book  of  Daniel : 
"And  at  that  time  shall  Michael  stand  up,  the  great 
prince  which  standeth  for  the  children  of  thy  people ; 
and  there  shall  be  a  time  of  trouble,  such  as  never 
was  since  there  was  a  nation  even  to  that  same  time ; 
and  at  that  time  thy  people  shall  be  delivered, 
every  one  that  shall  be  found  written  in  the  book, 
and  many  of  them  that  sleep  in  the  dust  of  the  earth 
shall  awake,  some  to  everlasting  life  and  some  to 
shame  and  everlasting  contempt.  And  they  that  be 
wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament ; 
and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness  as  the 
stars  for  ever  and  ever." 

Throughout  the  prophets  it  was  the  nation  that 
should  be  restored,  rise  again  from  its  ashes,  a 
thought  which  does  not  involve  the  recall  to  life  of 
those  myriad  Israelites  who  had  long  slept  with  their 
fathers.  The  distinctive  promise  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment is  that  Israel  shall  endure  for  ever,  rather  than 
that  its  dead  shall  rise,  or  individual  lives  continue 
immortally. 


Il8  DELIVERANCE 

But  Israel's  faith  in  her  restoration  by  the  hand 
of  Yahweh  had  to  adapt  itself  to  the  postpone- 
ment of  its  realisation,  because  of  the  fact  of  Israel 
so  glaringly  unrestored.  As  that  consummation 
appeared  more  and  more  remote,  its  features 
ceased  to  resemble  the  realities  of  the  past  or  present. 
Prophecy  became  a  revelation  of  the  distant  and 
the  different,  of  that  which  is  supermundane  if  not 
spiritual :  it  changed  to  what  is  called  apocalyptic. 
No  longer  drawing  its  substance  from  experience, 
it  lost  the  faculty  of  presenting  reality. 

The  vision  of  Ezekiel  enters  upon  these  marvels 
of  revelation;  and  while  the  first  part  of  Daniel 
seems  pious  fiction,  the  latter  part  is  sheer  apocalyp- 
tic. Through  the  last  two  pre-Christian  centuries 
and  the  first  century  of  our  era,  apocalyptic  writings 
form  the  most  curious,  if  not  most  interesting, 
part  of  Jewish  literature.  The  writers  screen  them- 
selves under  the  holy  names  of  the  past:  Enoch, 
The  Twelve  Patriarchs,  Psalms  of  Solomon,  Baruch, 
Ezra,  —  even  Sibylline  Oracles  appear.  Their  com- 
positions do  not  lack  in  power  and  impressiveness ; 
but  such  revelations  of  a  grandiloquently  restored 
Israel,  when  regarded  as  an  adjustment  of  the  human 
spirit  with  any  probabilities  of  human  lot,  are  with- 
out that  reality  which  is  drawn  from  the  arguments 
of  experience. 

One  element  of  reality,  however,  or  at  least  of 
universal  human  hope,  pressed  gradually  to  expres- 


THE  PROPHETS  OF  ISRAEL  119 

sion  in  this  literature  of  fantastic  and  fanatical 
adjustment.  It  was  the  conviction  that  at  least 
the  righteous  dead  should  rise  again,  a  conviction 
frequently  supplemented  by  the  further  hope  that 
the  wicked  should  be  punished.  As  the  decades 
passed,  the  conception  of  the  resurrection  life  of 
the  righteous  tended  rather  waveringly  to  rise  from 
earth  to  heaven,  and  to  abandon  the  thought  of  an 
Israel  glorified  and  restored  upon  a  paradisic  earth, 
for  that  of  a  more  spiritual  kingdom  and  an  eternal 
life  in  heaven.  Until  that  resurrection,  which  shall 
coincide  with  a  final  day  of  God,  a  true  Last  Judge- 
ment, the  spirits  of  the  righteous  are  at  rest  guarded 
by  Angels.^  In  portions  of  this  literature  the  figure 
of  a  Messiah  advances  to  prominence,  becomes  the 
protagonist  of  the  consummation,  the  Judge  of  the 
World,  a  more  than  human  being,  —  called  some- 
times the  Christ,  The  Righteous  One,  "The  Son 
of  Man."  2    Again  that  figure  passes  out  of  view. 

Were  these  conceptions  of  the  resurrection  of 
Israelitish  origin  or  derived  from  contact  with  the 
Persian  religion  ?  They  were  required  by  the 
previous  development  of  Jewish  thought,  and  thus 
seem  to  represent  organic  growth.     In  this  respect 

1  This  is  the  teaching  of  the  Ethiopia  book  of  Enoch,  xci-civ. 
See  Charles,  "  Eschatology,  Hebrew,  Jewish  and  Christian,** 
Second  edition. 

2  In  the  "  Similitudes,"  chapters  xxvii-lxx  of  the  Ethiopic 
Enoch  (94-64  B.C.)  Charles,  o.c. 


I20  DELIVERANCE 

they  appear  as  IsraeFs  own,  although  suggestions 
may  have  come  from  without.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  idea  of  souls  entering  immediately  after  death 
into  an  immortality  of  blessedness  or  perhaps  of 
punishment,  as  held  by  Alexandrian  Jews,  repre- 
sented draughts  of  Hellenism.  With  these  Alexan- 
drians, for  instance  in  the  Book  of  Wisdom  or 
the  writings  of  Philo,  there  is  no  resurrection  of  the 
body,  but  the  soul  rises  to  immortality  upon  the 
body's  death. 

It  is  not  hard  to  find  a  sort  of  spiritual  parting 
of  the  ways  throughout  the  prophets  from  Isaiah 
down  to  the  latest  composers  of  apocalyptic.  A 
parting  of  the  ways  as  to  the  purpose  and  result  of 
the  redemption  and  restoration  of  Israel :  was  that 
to  herald  the  victory  and  domination  of  the  Jewish 
nation  over  the  peoples  of  the  earth  .?  or  was  it  in- 
tended as  a  sign  to  the  peoples  and  the  means  of 
spiritual  regeneration  for  the  world  ?  These  twin 
conceptions  wrestled  with  each  other  through  Israel's 
centuries.  The  one  met  with  overthrow  from  the 
legions  of  Titus  and  of  Hadrian :  the  other  led  to 
Christ. 


CHAPTER  VI 

The  Heroic  Adjustment  in  Greek  Poetry 

TT  is  through  no  accident  that  what  survives  of 
-*-  the  literature  of  Israel  is  religious  and  turned 
toward  God,  while  the  great  surviving  literature  of 
Greece  has  to  do  with  the  wisdom  and  goodliness  of 
man;  for  the  spiritual  stress  of  either  people  ac- 
corded with  the  literature  that  has  happily  come 
down  to  us.  Different  principles  of  life,  and  different 
ways  of  arriving  at  them,  made  the  Greek  race 
illustrious  and  sanctified  the  Jew.  In  Judea,  the 
ways  and  commands  of  Yahweh  were  the  sanction 
of  conduct  and  the  crown  of  life.  In  Greece,  man's 
adjustment  of  his  life  with  its  anxieties  and  control- 
ling destinies  was  by  no  means  unrelated  to  concep- 
tions of  the  gods  and  the  sovereign  will  of  Zeus ;  but 
it  was  more  constantly  moulded  through  a  rational 
consideration  of  whatever  lay  open  to  perception, 
and  could  make  part  of  human  knowledge,  and  be 
tested  by  human  reason. 

The  Greek  drew  confidence  and  certitude  from 
his  temperament  and  the  eagerness  of  his  desires, 
from  consideration  of  events,  and  from  reflection 
upon  their  source  and  moving  causes;    also  from 

121 


122  DELIVERANCE 

the  serenity  arising  through  the  exercise  of  his  body 
and  the  intending  of  his  mind.  The  deed  accom- 
plished, or  the  broad  explanatory  thought  reflected 
on,  could  free  the  Greek  from  hampering  fears, 
and  constitute  for  him  that  liberty  of  life  and  action 
which  is  felicity  and  peace. 

One  will  find  the  Greek  adjustment  as  many- 
sided  as  the  Greek  nature,  and  as  manifold  as  Greek 
desires.  Its  varied  phases  may  be  followed  from 
Homer,  through  the  lyrical  and  dramatic  poets,  to 
the  philosophers.  The  epic  freedom  sounding  in 
the  heroic  temper  is  succeeded  by  the  more  analyti- 
cally conceived,  but  still  heroic,  serenity  of  the 
perfect  deed  of  which  Pindar  sings.  One  passes 
readily  to  the  fateful  consideration  of  conduct  with 
^schylus,  Sophocles,  and  Euripides.  But  the 
adjustment  of  the  philosophers  seemingly  rests  on 
another  principle  —  the  satisfaction  which  for  minds 
capable  of  large  detachment  lies  in  sheer  considera- 
tion of  the  universe  and  man.  Yet  an  Hellenic 
kinship  extends  through  these  adjustments,  and  a 
progress  will  be  perceived  from  those  which  are 
simple  and  almost  physical,  to  those  which  rest  on 
thought. 

Our  strict  concern  is  with  that  adjustment  with 
life  and  the  powers  of  life  which  constitutes  spiritual 
freedom.  But  Greece  lures  us  to  wander  and  ad- 
mire. Her  manifold  excellences  are  so  pleasant, 
so  provocative  of  comment.     How  can  one  speak 


THE  HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  123 

of  Homer  without  dwelling  on  the  grandeur  of  the 
Epics,  the  beauty  and  elevation  of  their  diction, 
the  living  power  and  measured  swiftness  of  their 
narratives,  their  glowing  scenes  of  life  and  character, 
all  making  up  that  glorious  tale  of  Troy  ? 

Yet  the  very  excellence  of  the  Epics,  the  full 
round  of  humanity  which  they  set  forth,  their  way 
of  making  all  things  great  and  beautiful,  the  eager- 
ness and  power  of  the  Heroes,  the  love  of  beauty 
inherent  in  the  poems  and  in  the  minds  of  the 
dramatis  personcs,  are  all  pertinent  to  the  Homeric, 
which  is  to  say,  the  Heroic,  adjustment.  Through 
courage  and  power  of  resolve,  rather  than  in  their 
conscious  reasoning,  Achilles  and  Odysseus,  or 
Hector  and  Diomede,  present  the  heroic  adjustment 
with  life's  fated  limitations.  And  so  it  is  with 
"Homer"  himself,  that  is  to  say,  with  the  Epics 
and  their  way  of  inculcating  wisdom,  not  so  much  by 
maxim,  as  by  setting  forth  the  tragic  courses  of 
events,  with  some  unavoidable  pointings  of  the  tale. 
The  narrative  itself  is  pregnant  with  reflection  upon 
life. 

The  Homeric  adjustment  is  swung  between  the 
realisation  (in  every  sense  of  the  word)  of  the  great- 
ness of  man  and  the  shortness  and  pain  of  human 
life.  The  negative  pole  is  conspicuous  enough : 
"even  as  the  generations  of  leaves  are  the  genera- 
tions of  men";  men  are  heavy-fated,  Svo-Trjvoi;  the 
gods  speak  of  them  as  "wretched  mortals."     The 


124  DELIVERANCE 

most  splendid  lives  may  be  the  most  grievously 
stricken.  "For  the  gods  have  made  it  the  lot  of 
wretched  mortals  to  live  in  affliction  while  they  are 
without  sorrow.  Two  jars  stand  on  the  floor  of 
Zeus  filled  with  evil  gifts,  and  another  with  blessings. 
He  to  whom  Zeus  gives  a  mingled  lot,  at  one  time 
encounters  evil,  at  another  good.  But  him  to  whom 
Zeus  gives  of  the  evil  kind  he  makes  a  wretch  of; 
hunger  drives  him  over  the  broad  earth,  and  he 
wanders  honoured  neither  by  gods  nor  men."  So 
speaks  Achilles  to  Priam;  and  both  knew.  The 
gods  interfere  to  direct  the  counsels  of  men,  and 
aid  or  thwart  their  endeavours.  The  masterful  will 
of  Zeus  intertwines  with  fate,  which  is  the  dumb 
necessity  of  things  in  their  common  courses,  or  the 
appointed,  if  sad,  event  of  some  heroic  life. 

The  positive  pole  of  the  adjustment  is  fixed  in  the 
dpcTij  and  TTLvvT-qy  the  virtus  and  prudentia,  the 
temper  and  consideration  of  the  heroes.  With  each 
man  it  is  set  in  the  intensity  of  his  passions  and 
desires,  in  his  imaginative  or  beautifying  enhance- 
ment of  the  objects  of  his  wishes,  in  his  strength  of 
will  to  obtain  them,  in  fine,  in  his  greatness  of  charac- 
ter. Yet  the  broad  and  balanced  view  belonging  to 
conscious  reasoning  is  rarely  absent.  For  example, 
the  recurring  note  in  the  character  of  Sarpedon,  the 
Lycian  king  and  son  of  Zeus,  is  aiSws,  which  is  the 
inbred  sense  of  honour  with  its  complement  of  shame 
at  all  things    shameful.     Whenever    Sarpedon    ap- 


THE  HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  125 

pears,  atSws  is  the  motive  of  his  conduct,  even  as 
when  he  calls  to  the  Lycians  broken  before  Patroclus, 
''Shame  on  you  Lycians;  where  are  you  running  ? 
Courage !  I  will  withstand  the  man."  Before 
this  day  when  he  went  forward  to  his  fate,  he  had 
urged  on  the  pensive  Glaucus  with  words  which 
give  the  argument  of  this  instinct  of  his  nature: 
"Why,  Glaucus,  is  high  honour  paid  to  thee  and  me 
in  Lycia,  and  all  look  on  us  as  gods  ?  and  why  do  we 
hold  a  rich  and  fair  domain  by  the  banks  of  Xanthus  ? 
For  this  we  must  meet  the  hot  fight  with  the  fore- 
most, that  the  cuirassed  Lycians  may  say,  not  in- 
glorious are  our  kings  who  rule  in  Lycia  and  eat 
fat  sheep  and  drink  sweet  wine.  Child  !  if  by  shun- 
ning this  battle  we  should  be  freed  from  age  and 
death,  I  would  not  fight  nor  send  you  into  the 
combat.  But  since  death's  myriad  shears  beset  us 
always,  and  no  man  can  escape,  let  us  on,  and  win 
fame  or  give  it." 

Throughout  the  Epics  it  is  manifest  that  the  sum 
of  a  man's  impulses,  which  is  his  character,  is  the  basis 
of  his  opinions  and  the  source  of  his  determination 
and  conduct.  Statement  and  argument  are  the 
justification  of  what  his  nature  has  determined. 
His  more  intellectual  faculties  give  articulate  form  to 
his  instinctive  adjustment  with  the  powers  that  con- 
strain his  lot.  Yet  character  still  intensifies  the 
thought  and  ennobles  the  expression  of  it. 

Take    the    great    instances :      Hector,    Achilles, 


126  DELIVERANCE 

Odysseus,  Helen !  Bunyan  might  have  named 
the  first  of  these  "Greatheart."  Courage,  devotion, 
magnanimity,  determine  Hector's  acts  and  form 
his  adjustment  with  his  fate,  ignorant  as  he  is  when 
the  gods  will  slay  him  at  the  hands  of  the  Greeks. 
Through  these  qualities  he  is  Troy's  defence;  they 
likewise  transform  his  disapproving  words  to  Paris 
into  an  exhortation  to  do  the  duty  of  a  prince. 
He  talks  to  Helen  with  the  kindliest  courtesy; 
and  one  cannot  speak  of  the  scene  with  Andromache 
without  drawing  it  down  to  the  level  of  our  poorer 
words.  A  high  sense  of  shame  impels  him  to 
action,  well  knowing  that  the  day  will  come  when 
mighty  Troy  shall  perish ;  and  his  dearest  grief  is  the 
fate  that  then  will  fall  on  his  wife  and  child.  Yet 
he  comforts  Andromache  with  the  pale  thought 
that  no  one  shall  send  him  to  Hades  before  his  time, 
nor  has  coward  or  brave  ever  escaped  his  fate.  So 
he  answers  the  cautious  Polydamus  that  he  cares  not 
whether  the  vultures  rise  on  the  right  hand  or  the 
left ;  he  trusts  the  will  of  Zeus  and  the  best  omen, 
which  is  to  fight  for  one's  country.  Evidently 
Hector's  adjustment  with  what  fate  had  in  store  for 
him  is  fixed  in  his  courage  and  temper. 

The  same  is  true  of  a  greater  hero,  whose  life 
is  held  in  fate  more  definitely  than  Hector's.  The 
grandeur  of  the  Homeric  Achilles  should  be  measured 
by  the  greatness  of  the  qualities  that  are  his,  and  by 
the  moving  beauty  of  their  unison  in  this  being  so 


THE  HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  127 

passionate,  yet  strong  in  self-restraint,  cruel  in 
wrath,  tender  in  love  of  friend,  convulsive  in  grief, 
in  revenge  a  raging  bane,  in  sorrow  passing  the  com- 
prehension of  other  men,  then  graciously  pitying, 
and  withal  endowed  with  the  faculty  of  true  consider- 
ation. His  decisions  spring  from  the  heroic  temper, 
from  the  passion  for  brave  conduct  and  the  glory  of 
it.  He  could  not  but  make  the  hero's  choice  of 
warfare  around  mighty  Troy,  rather  than  long 
life.  He  was  easily  first  in  deeds  among  the  Achaeans 
until  outrage  was  put  on  him  by  Agamemnon. 
Then  anger  thrusts  glory  from  his  mind;  and 
under  its  dulling  influence  he  thinks  it  were  better 
to  sail  home  to  Phthia,  comfort  himself  with  a 
wife,  live  those  long  years  once  conditionally  prom- 
ised him,  and  for  a  time  escape  the  stricken  lot  of 
Shades.  His  mind  may  have  been  turning,  through 
those  hours  while  he  sat  quieting  his  mood  by  singing 
the  famous  deeds  of  men.  But  when  he  hears  the 
words  of  the  Envoys  asking  aid,  anger  against  Aga- 
memnon again  possesses  him,  and  his  indignation 
takes  the  form  of  that  high  argument  with  which  he 
answers  and  refuses.  Its  impetus  carries  him  on 
to  declare  that  all  the  wealth  of  Ilium  is  no  pay  for 
the  life  of  man  —  "Kine  may  be  had  for  the  harry- 
ing, and  tripods  and  horses,  but  the  breath  of  man 
comes  back  neither  by  raid  nor  foray,  when  it  once 
has  passed  the  barrier  of  his  teeth.  My  mother, 
Thetis  of  the  silver  feet,  said  that  one  of  two  different 


128  DELIVERANCE 

fates  IS  bringing  me  to  my  death :  if,  staying  here, 
I  fight  about  the  city  of  the  Trojans,  my  return  is 
cut  off,  but  my  fame  will  be  imperishable ;  but  if  I 
sail  home  to  my  own  country,  my  good  fame  perishes, 
but  my  life  shall  be  long." 

Imagine  Achilles  actually  sailing  away  from  the 
war !  The  thought  leaves  him  with  the  violence  of 
his  anger.  Glory  and  an  early  death  had  been  his 
choice  before;  and  after  Patroclus  has  fallen,  when 
Thetis  tells  him  his  fate  will  follow  upon  Hector's, 
though  moved,  he  answers :  "Then  let  me  die, 
since  I  did  not  ward  off  death  from  my  comrade.  He 
perished  far  from  his  home,  and  lacked  me  to  defend 
him.  But  now,  since  I  shall  not  return  to  my  own 
country,  neither  was  I  a  light  of  refuge  to  Patroclus 
or  the  many  others  who  were  overcome  by  divine 
Hector,  but  sit  by  the  ships  a  burden  to  the  earth, 
may  strife  perish  from  among  gods  and  men  !  .  .  . 
I  go  to  meet  Hector  the  destroyer  of  that  dear  head  : 
and  I  will  take  my  death  whenever  Zeus  wills  to 
bring  it  to  pass,  and  the  other  gods.  For  not  even 
the  might  of  Heracles  escaped  death,  though  dearest 
of  all  to  Zeus;  but  fate  overcame  him  and  Hera's 
hate." 

Achilles  knows  his  greatness  and  his  mortality. 
It  is  as  in  words  of  remorseless  fate  that  he  refuses  to 
spare  Priam's  son,  Lycaon :  "Fool,  speak  not  to  me 
of  ransom  !  until  Patroclus  met  his  fatal  day,  it  was 
my  pleasure  to  spare  the  Trojans,  and  many  I  took 


THE  HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  129 

alive  and  sold.  But  now  there  is  not  one  that  shall 
escape  death,  whom  the  God  gives  into  my  hand 
before  Ilium.  But,  friend,  even  thou  must  die. 
Why  dost  thou  wail  ?  Patroclus  is  dead,  a  far 
better  man  than  thou.  Dost  thou  not  see  how  big 
I  am  and  goodly  .?  —  sprung  from  a  noble  father 
and  a  goddess  bore  me  ?  But  upon  me  as  well  as 
thee  lie  death  and  heavy  fate.  It  may  be  in  the 
morning  or  the  afternoon  or  mid-day,  when  some  one 
shall  take  my  life  with  cast  of  spear  or  arrow." 

Besides  the  heroic  temper  and  the  mental  sight 
which  is  clear  as  to  the  event  of  every  life,  there  is 
in  Achilles  a  further  nobility  of  motive,  rising,  if  one 
will,  from  a  sense  of  life's  finer  fitnesses  and  the 
reverence  due  to  its  pitiableness.  As  the  passions 
of  grief  and  vengeance  spend  themselves,  a  calm 
comes  to  him  through  obedience  to  the  gods  and 
pity  for  the  sorrows  of  Priam.  When  the  old  man 
has  clasped  the  hands  which  have  slain  his  son,  and 
Achilles,  weeping  for  his  own  father  and  his  dead 
friend,  has  raised  him  up  and  spoken  those  words 
of  high  consideration  of  the  lot  of  man,  has  placed 
Hector's  body  on  the  wagon,  then  with  the  story  of 
Niobe  he  induces  in  himself  and  Priam  the  tragic 
calm  arising  from  contemplation  of  the  calamities  of 
men  in  their  larger  aspects. 

The  heroic  temper  is  also  a  constant  element  in 
the  adjustment  presented  by  Odysseus,  but  with 
an  equally  constant  weighing  of  life's  values.     His 

K 


I30  DELIVERANCE 

adjustment  is  that  of  the  heroic  intelligence.  It  is 
achieved  by  the  steadfastness  and  right  action  of 
a  much-experienced  man,  who  acts  with  veritable  if 
canny  heroism,  with  loyalty  to  his  comrades  and  a 
full  sense  of  what  it  behooves  him  their  leader  to 
dare  and  do  for  them  —  the  sense  of  aiSws.  His 
hero-spirit  flashes  ever  and  anon;  never  inoppor- 
tunely. For  his  nerve  is  iron.  As  in  the  hollow 
horse  he  had  kept  the  chiefs  from  crying  out  on 
hearing  Helen's  voice,  so  in  rags  in  his  own  house 
he  can  keep  his  counsel,  bear  the  wooers'  insults, 
watch  the  shameless  maid-servants,  and  still  hold 
his  hand:  "Endure,  heart!  A  shamefuUer  thing 
didst  thou  bear  on  that  day  when  Cyclops  devoured 
thy  brave  comrades.  Then  thou  didst  endure  till 
thy  cunning  brought  thee  out  from  the  cavern  where 
thou  thoughtest  to  die." 

Odysseus'  words  always  carry  the  wisdom  of 
experienced  intelligence;  his  admonitions  express 
the  convictions  of  a  mature  right-minded  man. 
Thus  he  warns  the  least  evil  of  the  wooers :  "Am- 
phinomus,  you  seem  to  me  intelligent  and  the  son 
of  a  good  father;  so  listen  to  me  and  consider. 
Nothing  is  feebler  than  man  of  all  that  earth 
nourishes.  He  thinks  ill  will  never  come  on  him, 
so  long  as  the  gods  give  him  hardihood  and  sustain 
his  knees  !  But  when  the  blessed  gods  bring  woes 
on  him,  he  bears  them  also,  though  unwilling  !  .  .  . 
Therefore  let  no  man  be  wicked,  but  let  him  possess 


THE   HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  131 

In  silence  the  gifts  of  the  gods,  whatever  they  may 
give." 

No  man  excelled  Odysseus  in  wisdom  or  in  sacri- 
ficing to  the  gods :  the  two  go  together.  With 
reverence  for  the  heavenly  powers,  he  checks  the 
shrill  joy  of  the  old  nurse  at  the  death  of  the  wooers  : 
"In  thy  heart,  old  woman,  rejoice,  nor  cry  aloud. 
It  is  impious  to  exult  over  slain  men.  These  the 
doom  of  the  gods  overcame  and  their  evil  deeds; 
for  they  respected  no  man.  .  .  .  Wherefore  through 
their  wickedness  they  have  met  a  shameful  fate." 
Thus  the  wisdom  of  Odysseus  takes  measure  of 
the  heavenly  powers. 

Perhaps  the  highest  chord  of  the  whole  Hellenic 
adjustment  also  murmurs  in  the  Odyssey  —  the 
joy  of  satisfying  human  curiosity,  and  knowing 
things.  It  is  the  opening  note  of  the  poem  :  "Tell 
me,  muse,  of  the  man,  the  ready  one,  who  wandered 
far  after  he  had  destroyed  the  mighty  citadel  of 
Troy,  and  saw  the  cities  of  many  men,  and  learned 
to  know  their  mind."  Wherever  the  hero  is  cast, 
he  is  eager  to  find  out  what  manner  of  men  live 
there.  Bound  to  the  mast,  he  listens  to  the  Siren- 
song —  attuned  to  answer  his  own  nature:  "Oh  ! 
come  hither,  renowned  Odysseus,  glory  of  the 
Achaeans;  stop  the  ship  and  hear  our  voices. 
For  none  has  ever  driven  past  in  his  black  ship 
till  he  has  heard  from  our  lips  the  sweet  song,  but, 
having  enjoyed  it,  he  sails  on,  and  knowing  more. 


132  DELIVERANCE 

For  we  know  all  things  —  whatever  in  the  broad 
land  of  Troy,  Argives  and  Trojans  suffered  at  the 
will  of  the  gods;  and  we  know  whatever  happens 
on  the  teeming  earth." 

And  still  another  more  pervasive  conception 
gave  finish  and  a  proportionment  of  values  to  the 
Homeric  adjustment  —  the  thought  of  beauty,  that 
which  is  KaXoVf  a  thought  embracing  all  things 
physical,  passing  over  into  the  sphere  of  the  mind, 
and  finally  reflecting  Homer's  judgement  as  to  what 
was  right  and  proper,  most  broadly  well  for  man. 
The  thought  of  beauty  becomes  the  reflex  of  Homer's 
broadest  wisdom.  We  may  even  take  it  as  the 
moving  principle  which  built  the  Epics,  gave  them 
their  mighty  plan,  their  splendid  movement,  their 
episodic  propriety,  and  perhaps  that  verity  of  in- 
cident, discourse,  and  event,  through  which  they 
exemplify  life's  facts  and  teaching.  Homer's  people 
apply  the  thought  of  beauty  to  the  human  form  and 
visage,  to  trappings  and  utensils,  arms  and  armour, 
horses  and  chariots,  to  the  lyre  of  Apollo  and  the 
voices  of  the  Muses,  to  human  speech  and  conduct. 

Beauty,  like  greatness,  may  justify  and  vindicate. 
That  which  not  only  was  seen  in  Helen's  face,  but 
inhered  in  every  word  and  act,  raised  her  above 
blame.  Her  mortal  grace  forbade  reproach.  She  was 
divine  among  women.  So  Achilles  was  justified 
by  his  greatness,  uplifted  above  common  judge- 
merit,  but  not  above  mortal  fate.     Homer  was  too 


THE  HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  133 

wise  to  condemn  great  beings,  save  upon  considera- 
tion of  all  their  attributes.  His  ethics  included  the 
proportionment  of  everything  entering  life.  Helen 
speaks  of  herself  and  Paris  "on  whom  Zeus  has 
set  such  an  evil  fate  that  we  shall  be  a  theme  of 
song  to  men  in  times  to  come."  Justification,  as 
well  as  adjustment,  rises  from  that  beauty  or  that 
greatness  which  is  its  own  excuse  for  being  and 
makes  a  theme  of  song  —  a  joy  to  men,  a  heightening 
of  knowledge,  an  expansion  of  thought.  Herein  is 
the  vindication  of  Achilles,  of  Helen,  and  the  fate 
of  Troy  — 

Sil/Lfjiov  oij/iTeXcarov,  oov  kXco?  ov  ttot*  oXctrat.^ 

The  content  which  the  common  man  finds  in  his 
daily  work  or  occupation  is  his  practical  adjustment. 
The  strenuous  man  proceeds  more  vigorously,  and 
the  high-minded  man  more  ideally,  trying  to  ac- 
complish what  seems  the  best  to  do,  or  attain,  or  be. 
This  endeavour  constitutes  his  working  satisfaction ; 
herein  lies  his  spiritual  freedom  —  his  freedom  to 
fulfil  his  nature,  his  release  from  fear,  his  actual 
adjustment  with  Hfe  and  the  eternal  ways.  Such  an 
adjustment  represents  the  kinetic  principle,  the 
Aristotelian  hipyeui,  man's  highest  energy  wherein 
he  enters  on  an  efficient  unison  with  his  best  ideals, 
attains    his    freedom    and    his    peace  —  may    even 

1  //.,  II,  325.  Late  and  late  accomplished,  the  fame  of  which 
shall  never  fade. 


134  DELIVERANCE 

reach  the  working  peace  of  God  which  passes  under- 
standing. 

From  such  a  point  of  view,  one  may  regard  the 
Greek  poetic  and  artistic  adjustment,  of  which 
the  Homeric  was  the  elemental  stage.  In  Hesiod, 
in  the  greater  lyrists,  in  the  dramatists,  at  least 
until  Euripides,  the  elemental  poetic  adjustment 
of  Homer  advances  to  deeper  consciousness,  with 
little  change  of  principle  or  motive.  Like  all 
serious  adjustments,  whether  sounding  in  active 
human  energy  or  in  contemplation,  the  adjustment 
presented  in  the  higher  modes  of  Greek  poetry 
proceeded  from  an  estimate  of  the  facts  of  human 
life,  their  relative  permanence,  their  proportionate 
values,  the  possibilities  of  their  attainment,  the 
happiness  therefrom  arising,  and  the  fitting  principles 
of  conduct  and  regard. 

The  Greek  poetic  adjustment  accepted  the  bounds 
of  mortality,  while  perceiving  the  greatness  of 
man  although  held  within  them.  It  sprang  from 
the  heroic  temper,  worked  itself  out  through  heroic 
valour  and  intelligence,  and  rested  in  heroic  achieve- 
ment. Primarily  heroic,  it  remained  royal  or  aris- 
tocratic, suited  to  those  whose  nature  and  position 
set  them  above  the  common  mass.  Yet  as  it  recog- 
nised mortality's  limitations,  its  deepest  ethics  lay 
in  its  insistence  on  the  retribution  overtaking  those 
who  insolently  would  reach  beyond,  or  impiously 
transgress  the  principles  of  righteousness,  which  were 


THE  HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  135 

thought  to  rest  upon  the  sanction  of  the  gods,  of 
Zeus  above  all. 

All  this  is  in  Homer;  but  is  developed  with 
varied  temperamental  color  and  profound  considera- 
tion by  Pindar  and  iEschylus  and  Sophocles.  Be- 
fore them  had  come  Hesiod,  reputed  the  most 
terre-d-terre  of  the  Greek  poets  —  an  honest  and 
rehgious  soul.  Impressed  with  the  value  of  just 
dealings  among  men,  he  believed  that  Zeus  and  the 
other  gods  observed  just  and  evil  deeds,  rewarding 
the  one  and  punishing  the  other.  The  just  prosper, 
their  city  flourishes,  peace  is  in  their  borders,  their 
land  bears  its  crops,  their  sheep  are  heavy  with 
wool,  their  wives  bear  children  like  their  parents; 
while  ill-fortune  comes  to  the  wicked  {Works,  255 
sqq.).  Not  for  long  could  the  Greeks  hold  to  this 
old  crass  conviction  (for  a  while  held  by  the  Jews  !), 
which  further  reflexion  must  show  to  be  faulty. 

Nearer  to  Pindar  were  the  earlier  lyrists,  those 
who  uttered  their  keen  notes  of  restless  but  not 
unmeasured  daring,  like  Archilochus  and  Alcaeus; 
those  who  were  saddened  or  embittered  over  life's 
mortality,  like  Mimnermus,  or  Theognis,  in  some 
of  the  verses  bearing  the  latter's  name :  —  as  for 
Sappho,  the  flames  of  passion  and  the  love  of  beauty 
made  the  summit  of  her  being.  Apparently  the 
best  adjustment  in  these  poets  clung  to  the  principle 
of  Measure  —  the  widely  applicable  thought  of  y^yfitv 
ayav,  which  reverted  to  Hesiod's  injunction  to  ob- 


136  DELIVERANCE 

serve  measure,  and  his  famous  saw,  "the  half  is 
better  than  the  whole." 

Pindar's  thought  of  life,  its  possibilities  and  satis- 
factions, its  adjustment  with  its  fated  bounds,  is 
more  complete.  He  is  in  the  line  from  Homer, 
prizing  all  the  qualities  —  for  the  most  part  coming 
from  <f>vai,  one's  inborn  nature  —  which  fill  out  man's 
greatness,  and  not  those  alone  which  are  more 
especially  ethical.  He  holds  to  strength  and  beauty, 
swiftness,  valour,  bravery,  and  apt  intelligence; 
also  the  wealth  and  position  proper  to  greatness : 
an  aristocrat  altogether.  But  let  not  wealth  and 
power  overween  !  It  behooves  man  to  seek  things 
suitable  (coiKora),  such  as  are  meet  for  mortals, 
knowing  where  his  feet  must  come  !  ^  And  what- 
ever be  his  valour  or  his  wit,  let  him  not  boast,  but 
remember  that  success  comes  from  the  gods :  it  is 
Zeus  that  gives  or  withholds.^  Yet  success  —  from 
the  gods  —  comes  only  to  those  who  have  striven. 
Toil  and  effort  —  by  these  means  victory  is  won, 
and  happiness,  though  man  be  a  thing  of  a  day! 
From  victory  comes  forgetfulness  of  toil  and  anxious- 
ness  and  death.  There  are  values  which  do  not 
sound  in  permanence  —  like  the  perfect  instant, 
the  perfect  deed !  That  has  absolute  worth  trans- 
cending its  own  briefness ;  and,  crowned  by  victory, 
it  brings  the  high  mood  which  is  the  zenith  for 
mortals,    and    makes   the   doer's    adjustment   with 

1  Pyth.,  Ill,  59  sqq.  *  Pyth.,  Ill,  103 ;  Isth.,  IV,  50. 


THE  HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  137 

life's  limitations  and  the  Powers  which  set  them.^ 
Beyond  this,  there  is  also  the  report  which  lives  after 
a  man,  and  reveals  his  life  to  the  poets,  which  is 
fame. 

Pindar  is  unrivalled  in  his  phrased  sententiousness. 
And  yet  more  splendidly  his  fourth  Pythian  ode 
exemplifies  these  principles  in  action,  telling  the 
glorious  story  of  Jason  and  the  Golden  Fleece, 
through  which  breathes  the  living  truth  of  the 
Pindaric  adjustment,  drawing  its  being  from  the 
perfect  deed. 

iEschylus  was  a  Titan  dominated  by  moral  and 
religious  principles :  crimes  entail  punishment ; 
right  conduct  cannot  wreck  the  doer;  the  Mean  is 
safest ;  great  prosperity  does  not  of  itself  bring  over- 
throw, but  is  apt  to  beget  insolence,  with  the  en- 
suing round  of  crime  and  ruin.  These  convictions 
were  rooted  in  faith  in  the  punitive  and  benign  rule 
of  Zeus  and  the  subsidiary  divine  potencies.  The 
gods  will  cast  down  the  proud  man  who  has  sinned, 
and  his  overweening  children;  but  suffering  shall 
bring  wisdom  to  those  who  act  aright,  although  they 
are  involved  in  the  fatal  dilemmas  of  a  blood- 
stained house.  This  is  Zeus's  law  —  a  stern  fore- 
runner of  Plato's  thought  and  Paul's  announcement, 
that  to  them  who  love  God  all  things  work  to- 
gether for  good.  The  iEschylean  adjustment  lies 
in  adherence  to  these  ethical  and  divine  principles, 
iCf.O/.,I,97;  11,  56;  vni,72. 


138  DELIVERANCE 

this  sequence  of  the  Zeus-supported  power  of  the 
act  working  itself  out  even  in  pain  and  blood. 
Man's  proper  freedom  of  action  lies  within  the 
constraint  of  these  laws;  which  are  incarnate  in 
the  story  of  the  house  of  Atreus. 

The  Agamemnon  opens  with  the  weariness  of  the 
watchman  on  the  roof  at  Argos,  and  the  boding 
anxiousness  of  the  chorus,  which  is  checked  rather 
than  lifted  by  the  announcement  that  Troy  has 
fallen.  Too  much  evil  conduct  has  gone  before 
to  allow  a  happy  issue  to  those  enmeshed  in  this 
crime-spotted  web.  Sorrow !  Sorrow !  may  the 
good  prevail !  —  The  chorus  can  throw  off  their 
burden  only  through  appeal  to  Zeus,  who  leads 
mortals  to  be  wise,  who  has  set  through  suffering 
the  path  of  wisdom  —  a  kindness  enforced.  To 
have  summoned  Greece  to  general  slaughter  for 
one  guilty  woman !  —  a  fit  prelude  to  the  fatal 
dilemma  of  the  fleet,  wind-bound  at  Aulis,  and 
no  release  except  through  sacrifice  of  the  guilt- 
less for  the  guilty,  of  Iphigeneia  to  win  back 
Helen !  That  was  a  sin,  by  whatsoever  stress  of 
need  entailed. 

The  first  report  is  made  certain:  The  Greeks 
have  taken  Troy  —  surely  the  stroke  of  Zeus  on 
Paris  and  on  Priam's  city.  There  is  no  stronghold 
for  him  who  tramples  on  sanctities,  and  in  the 
arrogance  of  wealth  spurns  the  altar  of  justice. 
But  what  if  the  guilty  have  been  guiltily  destroyed 


THE  HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  139 

by  the  avengers  ?  In  the  place  of  living  men,  how 
many  urns  of  ashes  have  come  back  from  Ilium  I  — 
men  fallen  because  of  another's  wife  !  Heavy  with 
anger  is  the  city's  voice,  filling  the  function  of  a 
public  curse.  How  dangerous  is  too  much  glory  ! 
Let  me  neither  a  captive  nor  a  spoiler  be ! 

It  is  unnecessary  to  sketch  the  action  of  this  (as 
many  think)  greatest  of  all  tragedies.  It  is  enough 
to  observe  the  sequence  of  recurring  crime  and 
more  unrighteous  vengeance.  Clearer  becomes  the 
old  men's  view  of  that  flower  of  loveliness,  that 
fawning  lion's  cub  of  doom,  Helen,  bane  to  city, 
man,  and  ship.  It  is  not  prosperity  that  brings 
retribution;  the  righteous  house  may  remain  fair 
and  blessed ;  it  is  the  sinful  act  that  begets  children 
like  itself;  the  old  v/8pts,  when  the  time  is  ripe, 
engenders  a  new  v^pts  in  the  wicked  which  is  their 
doom. 

The  sequence  is  quite  clear.  Cassandra's  cry, 
her  utterance  becoming  more  articulate,  till  she  lays 
bare  the  tale  of  ancestral  crime,  handed  on  from  one 
generation  to  another,  through  conduct  never  free 
from  guilt  —  this  backward-reaching  forward-reach- 
ing vision,  which  raises  the  Agamemnon  to  the  sum- 
mit of  all  tragedy,  makes  plain  the  scheme  of  the 
iEschylean  adjustment.  She  scents  the  track  of 
crimes  done  long  before,  sees  the  harsh  chorus  of 
Erinyes,  drunk  with  human  blood,  not  to  be  cast 
out,   still   chanting  that   primal   impious   act,   the 


I40  DELIVERANCE 

brother's  couch  defiled,  and  then  those  children 
slaughtered  by  their  kin,  holding  out  hands  filled 
with  flesh,  a  dish  for  their  own  father. 

It  is  thus  that  the  cursed  act,  an  infection  for 
the  unborn  wicked,  passes  on  through  blood;  and 
now  with  Agamemnon's  murder,  in  which  likewise 
is  the  will  of  Zeus,  it  seizes  the  blood-guilty  Cly- 
temnestra,  vaunting  her  crime,  entangling  herself 
in  that  same  curse  which  she  points  to  as  her  ex- 
culpation. 

The  Furies  are  not  yet  appeased;  they  shall 
become  those  of  a  mother  slain;  and  then,  after 
purification  of  the  slayer,  shall  change  from  curses 
to  potential  blessings,  from  Erinyes  to  Eumenides. 
Through  the  drama  of  vengeance  and  that  of  excul- 
pation, the  Choephoroi  and  the  Eumenides,  the  old 
Greek  point  of  view  is  to  be  seen :  the  mandates 
and  threats  of  the  murdered  Agamemnon  (through, 
rather  than  by  virtue  of,  the  oracle  of  Apollo) 
drive  Orestes  to  kill  Clytemnestra ;  the  son  who 
fails  to  avenge  his  father  shall  be  eaten  by  disease, 
disowned  by  all,  and  cast  out  from  the  city  to  perish 
vilely.^  When  Orestes  is  about  to  kill  the  murderess, 
she  threatens  him  with  the  "hounds  of  a  mother's 
hate";    at  which  he  demands  how  can  he  escape 

*  Choeph.y  261  (269)  sqq.  A  considerable  part  of  the  Choephoroi 
consists  of  Electra's  and  Orestes'  invocation  of  the  dead  Agamem- 
non and  the  mighty  curses  of  the  slain  to  aid  them  in  their  ven- 
geance. 


THE  HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  141 

his  father's,  if  he  forbear  to  kill  her  ?  {Choeph., 
910  (925)).  When  the  deed  is  done,  Orestes  states 
in  justification  that  he  killed  his  mother,  his  father's 
murderess  and  an  abomination  to  the  gods;  and 
adduces  the  oracle  of  Apollo  that  he  should  be 
without  blame  if  he  did  it,  but  subject  to  penalties 
unnameable  if  he  forbore.  With  a  suppliant's 
branch,  he  will  go,  as  Apollo  bade  him,  to  the  god's 
shrine  for  refuge.  And  he  rushes  out,  pursued  by 
his  mother's  Furies. 

At  the  opening  of  the  Eumenides,  Clytemnestra's 
Furies  are  asleep  around  Orestes  seated  at  the  cen- 
tral altar  of  the  temple.  He  has  undergone  the  pre- 
scribed rites  of  purification.  Apollo  enters  with  the 
words,  "I  will  not  fail  thee,"  and  sends  him  to 
Athens  under  Hermes*  guard,  there  finally  to  be 
freed.  Orestes  leaves  the  temple  as  Clytemnestra's 
ghost  rouses  the  sleeping  Furies  in  pursuit. 

Orestes  comes  to  Athene  for  a  final  decree  of 
justification,  in  order  that  his  mother's  Furies  may 
cease  from  troubling  him  while  living,  or  when  he 
has  passed  to  Hades,  a  great  corrector  of  impiety 
below  the  earth.  In  a  tremendous  ode,  the  Furies 
chant  the  iEschylean  ethical  sequence,  fearful  as 
they  are  lest  the  old  laws  be  made  null,  and  all 
restraint  removed  from  crime,  if  Orestes  be  ac- 
quitted :  "  There  are  times  when  fear  is  well,  abiding 
as  a  warder  of  the  mind.  Wisdom  through  suffer- 
ing   profits.     What    man,    what    city,    freed    from 


142  DELIVERANCE 

dread,  will  revere  justice  ?  Praise  thou  neither  the 
despot-ridden  nor  the  lawless  state.  Everywhere 
God  gives  might  to  the  Mean.  From  impiety  is 
born  insolence ;  but  from  health  of  mind  that  for- 
tune much  prayed  for,  dear  to  all.  I  counsel  thee, 
always  revere  the  altar  of  right,  nor  spurn  it  with 
godless  foot,  thine  eyes  set  on  gain.  For  punish- 
ment shall  follow,  and  the  fitting  end  awaits.  .  .  . 
He  who,  unforced,  is  just,  shall  not  be  unblest,  and 
never  can  be  utterly  destroyed.  But  the  rash 
transgressor  shall  in  time  haul  down  his  yard-arms 
broken;  he  calls  on  those  who  do  not  hear  in  the 
storm,  while  the  god  laughs  at  the  man  of  boasts, 
who,  failing  to  weather  the  point,  is  wrecked  on  the 
reef  of  Justice,  and  perishes."  ^ 

The  judgement  of  Athene,  on  grounds  quite  curious 
to  us,  takes  the  case  of  Orestes  out  of  this  sweep  of 
retribution,  this  sequence  whose  validity  is  in  no 
way  impugned  by  the  turn  of  the  drama;  while 
the  Furies  (Erinyes)  are  placated  and  won  to  dwell 
beneath  the  Areopagus,  as  the  Eumenides,  awarders 
of  blessings  for  the  righteous  people  of  Athene. 

Character,  good  or  bad,  a  criminal  or  benevolent 
disposition,  either  philosophically  viewed  or  tragi- 
cally treated,  is  part  of  the  broad  matter  of  human 
freedom  and  responsibility,  and  their  compatibility 
with  fate  or  the  divine  will  or  foreknowledge.     In- 

^  Eum.j  490-565,  condensed. 


THE  HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  143 

herited  tendencies,  the  sins  of  the  fathers  visited 
upon  the  children,  even  the  specific  curse  entailed, 
may  be  regarded  as  possible  elements  of  our  uni- 
versal mortality,  passing  down  from  generation  to 
generation.  A  Greek  tragedy  might  present  such 
elements  of  life  through  the  spectacle  of  the  un- 
happy turns  of  human  lot  occasioned  by  them ;  but 
its  mode  of  treatment  did  not  solve,  so  much  as 
deepen  and  render  terrible,  the  mystery  of  their 
action,  ethical,  divine,  physical,  or  quasi-physical. 

Having  sought  in  the  great  trilogy  of  ^schylus 
for  what  seemed  his  mind*s  adjustment  with  the 
powers  of  retribution  and  reward,  we  turn  to  look 
for  the  peace  of  Sophocles  in  those  of  his  dramas 
which  have  to  do  with  the  unspeakable  deeds  of 
(Edipus  and  the  fate  of  his  house.  The  adjustment 
presented  by  their  chief  characters  is  noble  and 
beautiful.  It  also  is  heroic,  resting  in  that  high 
conduct  and  temper  which  belong  only  to  great  men 
and  women.  It  is  thus  in  line  with  the  Homeric 
and  i^schylean  adjustment,  being  established  in  the 
might  of  a  rational  and  temperamental  adherence 
to  powers  and  principles  held  to  be  the  most  potent 
and  the  best.  Its  peace  is  made  firm  through  con- 
stancy of  noble  mood,  rather  than  through  the 
reasoning  processes  which  support  it. 

This  path  of  surest  satisfaction,  which  in  freedom 
of  soul  a  man  may  tread,  is  presented  in  the  first 
strophe  of  the  ode  chanted  by  the  chorus  when  the 


144  DELIVERANCE 

drama  of  CEdipus  the  King  has  reached  its  final 
stress  of  tension,  and  the  discovery  is  imminent : 
"May  destiny  still  find  me  winning  the  praise  of 
reverent  purity  in  all  words  and  deeds  sanctioned 
by  those  laws  of  range  sublime,  called  into  life 
throughout  the  high  clear  heaven,  whose  father  is 
Olympus  alone ;  their  parent  was  no  race  of  mortal 
men,  no,  nor  shall  oblivion  ever  lay  them  to  sleep; 
the  god  is  mighty  in  them,  and  he  grows  not  old."  ^ 
So  long  as  man  fulfils  this  prayer,  he  is  possessed 
of  the  best  that  comes  to  man ;  with  peace  in  his 
soul,  he  is  in  accord  with  the  mightiest  arbiters  of 
his  destiny.  But  CEdipus  unwittingly,  and  yet 
because  he  was  himself,  has  shattered  these  laws 
through  deeds  which  the  tongue  refuses  to  utter. 
It  may  be  that  no  man  is  evil  through  unwitting 
sin;  and  that  toward  such,  men's  anger  softens 
(Soph.  Frag.,  599;  Track.,  727).  Yet  all  the  absolv- 
ing powers  of  life  cannot  make  CEdipus  as  if  he  had 
not  done  these  deeds;  and  as  the  deeds  cannot  be 
undone,  neither  can  the  consequences  involved  in 
them  —  any  more  than  when  a  blind  man  steps  off 
a  precipice,  one  born  blind,  say,  for  a  parent's  sin ! 
As  easy  can  a  man  cease  to  be  himself  as  throw  off 
the  entailments  of  his  acts.  He  can  only  live  them 
out,  as  he  lives  out  his  life.  So  the  CEdipus  at 
Colonus  comes  as  the  drama  of  the  close  of  a  long 
expiation,  no  paltry  exculpation  by  foolish  or  angry 
^(Ed,  Tyr.y  863-871.    Jebb's  Translation. 


THE  HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  145 

argument;  though  as  against  a  shameless  accuser, 
(Edipus  can  free  himself  from  blame  quite  over- 
whelmingly :  "  Bloodshed  —  incest —  misery  —  all 
this  thy  lips  have  launched  against  me,  —  all  this 
that  I  have  borne,  woe  is  me  !  by  no  choice  of  mine  : 
for  such  was  the  pleasure  of  the  gods,  wroth,  haply, 
with  the  race  from  of  old.  Take  me  alone,  and 
thou  couldst  find  no  sin  to  upbraid  me  withal,  in 
quittance  whereof  I  was  driven  to  sin  thus  against 
myself  and  against  my  kin.  Tell  me,  now,  —  if, 
by  voice  of  oracle,  some  divine  doom  was  coming 
on  my  sire,  that  he  should  die  by  a  son's  hand,  how 
couldst  thou  justly  reproach  me  therewith,  who  was 
then  unborn,  whom  no  sire  had  yet  begotten,  no 
mother's  womb  conceived  ?  And  if,  when  born  to 
woe,  as  I  was  born,  I  met  my  sire  in  strife,  and  slew 
him,  all  ignorant  what  I  was  doing,  and  to  whom, 
—  how  couldst  thou  justly  blame  the  unknowing 
deed  r  1 

Thus  the  blind  old  man  strikes  away  the  ground 
from  his  accuser's  feet;  but  not  thus  would  he  cut 
the  ground  away  from  fact.  He  had  said  with 
deeper  truth:  "My  deeds  have  been  sufferings 
rather  than  acts."  Long  fellowship  with  sorrows, 
and  a  noble  nature  have  brought  resignation. 
Through  bearing  thus  the  consequences  of  his  deeds, 
he  attains  his  peace.  At  last  he  is  accepted  by  the 
Powers    which    absolve    and    consecrate.     At    the 

1  (Ed.  Col.y  962-977.    Jebb's  Translation. 
L 


146  DELIVERANCE 

thunder  signal,  understood  by  him,  he  rises,  and 
with  no  need  of  guidance  for  his  sightlessness,  moves 
onward  to  the  place  where  he  may  hide  his  life  with 
the  dead,  or  rather  where,  somehow  from  the  gods, 
the  lower  world  opens  for  him  in  kindness,  without 
pain:  his  passing  "was  not  with  lamentation  or  in 
sickness  and  suffering,  but  above  mortal's  won- 
derful." 

After  the  death  of  CEdipus,  the  accursed  frat- 
ricidal struggles  of  his  sons  were  doomed  to  come, 
and  draw  to  a  devoted  death  that  perfect  flower  of 
Greek  womanhood,  Antigone.  Like  the  tale  of 
CEdipus  or  Agamemnon,  her  story  needs  no  telling. 
Antigone's  adjustment  was  Antigone;  it  lay  in  her 
character,  her  essential  being;  an  adjustment  of  an 
heroic  woman's  perfect  devotion,  her  perfect  follow- 
ing of  the  best.  Its  power  was  her  high  constant 
mood,  supported  by  the  reasonings  of  her  mind,  but 
scarcely  needing  them.  Though  death  must  follow, 
there  is  neither  hesitation  nor  need  of  any  prior 
dialectic  stimulation  in  her  resolve  to  bury  her 
brother's  corpse.  She,  being  herself,  could  not  fail 
so  to   resolve  and   act,  —  koXov  fwi  tovto  Troiova-r)  OaveLV, 

she  tells  her  weaker  sister,  Ismene :  "Well  for 
me  to  die  doing  this;  as  a  loved  one  I  shall  lie 
with  him,  a  loved  one,  sinless  in  my  crime;  since 
what  I  must  do  to  satisfy  the  dead  is  for  a  longer 
time  than  what  is  owed  the  living :  there  I  shall  lie 
forever."     And  when  the  helpless  act  is  done,  and 


THE  HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  147 

Antigone  is  to  die,  she  bids  Ismene,  now  vainly 
seeking  to  have  part  with  her  :  "  Be  of  good  cheer ; 
thou  livest;  but  my  soul  died  long  ago,  so  that  I 
might  serve  the  dead." 

The  drama  turns  upon  the  conflict  between  the 
ruler's  decree,  the  law  proclaimed  by  man,  and  those 
higher  laws  and  sanctities  established  in  the  divine 
order,  —  which  Roman  jurists  and  the  Middle 
Ages  were  to  recognise  as  the  lex  naturalis.  They 
have  been  acclaimed  in  the  (Edipus  Tyr annus ;  and 
now  as  against  Kreon's  decree,  which  Antigone 
admits  having  wilfully  disobeyed,  she  appeals  to 
them :  "For  it  was  not  Zeus  that  had  published  me 
that  edict ;  not  such  are  the  laws  set  among  men  by 
the  justice  who  dwells  with  the  gods  below;  nor 
deemed  I  that  thy  decrees  were  of  such  force,  that 
a  mortal  could  override  the  unwritten  and  unfailing 
statutes  of  heaven.  For  their  life  is  not  of  to-day 
or  yesterday,  but  from  all  time,  and  no  man  knows 
when  they  were  first  put  forth. 

"Not  through  dread  of  any  human  pride  could  I 
answer  to  the  gods  for  breaking  these.  Die  I  must, 
—  I  knew  that  well  even  without  thy  edicts.  But 
if  I  am  to  die  before  my  time,  I  count  that  a  gain : 
for  when  any  one  lives,  as  I  do,  compassed  about 
with  evils,  can  such  a  one  find  aught  but  gain  in 
death  ? 

"So  for  me  to  meet  this  doom  is  but  a  trifling 
grief;   but  if  I  had  suffered  my  mother's  son  to  lie 


148  DELIVERANCE 

in    death    an    unburied    corpse,    that   would    have 
grieved  me."  ^ 

To  disobey  a  ruler's  decree,  in  order  to  follow  the 
law  of  conscience,  seemed  to  the  chorus  of  old 
Thebans,  even  in  this  clear  case,  a  questionable 
course.  A  halting  sympathy,  tending  to  disap- 
proval, leaves  Antigone  hapless,  despairing  almost, 
as  she  is  led  to  her  living  tomb,  "unwept,  unfriended, 
without  marriage-song."  Unhappy,  she  is  still 
convinced,  —  if  these  judgements  of  men  are  pleas- 
ing to  the  gods,  why,  she  may  learn  her  fault  here- 
after !  Her  last  utterance  is  of  noblest  poise  and 
truth  :  "Behold,  princes  of  Thebes,  the  last  daugh- 
ter of  your  kings,  what  I  suffer,  and  from  whom, 
because  I  revere  piety."     That  was  her  adjustment. 

As  an  expression  of  the  human  adjustment  with 
the  powers  controlling  human  destiny,  sculpture 
and  painting  cannot  be  as  definite  as  poetry,  which 
has  language  for  its  medium.  Nevertheless,  for 
those  who  have  the  interpretive  imagination,  an 
impressive  temperamental  adjustment  lies  in  the 
remains  of  the  noblest  Greek  sculpture  :  that  of  the 
greatness  of  man  in  spite  of  fate,  and  with  an  added 
element  of  serenity,  which  it  is  sculpture's  preroga- 
tive to  express  in  a  pre-eminent  degree. 

The  remains  of  the  sculptures  of  the  Parthenon 
exemplify   this    adjustment.     Their   general   theme 

*  Ant.,  450-468,  Jebb's  Translation. 


THE  HEROIC  ADJUSTMENT  149 

was  the  greatness  of  Athens,  attained  (according  to 
the  fond  Periclean-Phidian  ideal)  through  rever- 
ence for  the  gods  as  well  as  through  human  intelli- 
gence, valour,  and  self-sacrifice;  and  a  greatness 
likewise  to  be  rejoiced  in  fittingly  and  righteously. 
On  the  east  pediment,  Athene  breaks  into  full  and 
potent  being ;  on  the  west,  she  conquers  Poseidon  in 
vindication  of  her  pre-excellent  claim  to  be  recog- 
nised as  the  goddess  of  Athens.  The  metopes  show 
Olympian  gods  victorious  over  earth-born  giants, 
Greeks  conquering  Amazons,  Lapiths  defending  the 
sanctity  of  their  marriage-festival  against  brutal 
Centaurs,  and,  it  may  be,  Athenians  victorious  over 
Persians:  victories  of  mind  and  civilisation  and 
freedom  over  their  brutal  or  slavish  opposites. 

So  there  was  rendered  the  divine  and  human 
struggle  through  which  safety  and  order  and  free- 
dom were  attained,  and  also,  in  Athene's  birth,  the 
glorious  inception  of  her  city's  destiny.  Finally,  the 
frieze  pictured  the  serene  beauty  of  Athens'  present, 
her  youths  and  stately  maidens,  her  wise  elders, 
and  the  presence  of  the  gods  abiding  there.  Athens 
has  achieved ;  in  human  power  and  in  reverence 
for  the  gods  she  is  most  bravely  blessed.  Rhythms 
of  sculptured  harmony  reflect  the  discipline  and  self- 
control,  the  temperance  and  grace  of  spirit,  which, 
ideally  viewed,  formed  the  serene  greatness  of  her 
civic  state  —  her  corporate  adjustment  with  her 
destinies. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Greek  Philosophers 

TJEING  Greeks,  the  early  Greek  philosophers 
-*-'  cared  for  much  that  entered  the  heroic  ideals 
of  the  epic  and  dramatic  poets.  We  are  not  to  take 
too  narrowly  their  main  aspiration,  which  was  to 
know  and  understand.  For  they  were  not  recluses, 
but  members,  often  active,  leading,  or  even  revolu- 
tionary, of  city-states;  and  while  they  sought 
knowledge  for  the  satisfaction  which  lay  in  know- 
ing, the  search  was  well  related  to  the  business  of 
human  living.  Their  human  ideal  looked  to  the 
fulfilment  of  the  whole  rational  man,  and  included 
all  objects  which  the  intellect  might  commend. 
Yet  of  this  whole,  the  wisdom  which  is  assimilated 
knowledge  was  the  noblest  portion,  that  which  in 
itself  could  satisfy,  and  without  which  the  other 
human  felicities  either  were  unattainable,  or,  if 
quickly  grasped,  were  likely  to  prove  worthless. 
Knowledge  was  the  test  and  standard,  as  well  as 
the  necessary  guide,  of  life. 

Accordingly  the  deliverance  of  the  human  spirit 
which  lies  in  early  Greek  philosophy  —  its  libera- 
tion from  anxieties  unto  its  freest  being  —  pertains 

ISO 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  151 

to  investigation,  contemplation,  and  reflexion,  rather 
than  to  heroic  action,  or  to  material  or  emotional 
gratification :  it  is  the  OetoprjrLKo^  ^Co'Sy  the  vita 
contemplativa.  With  the  very  earliest  of  these 
philosophers,  this  vita  lay  in  the  function  of  curiosity 
engaged  in  observing,  0€(iipia  in  the  primary  sense 
of  looking  at  things,  but  with  the  mind's  eye  as  well 
as  with  the  bodily  organ.  If  one  enquires  what 
they  were  looking  at  or  looking  for,  it  may  be 
answered,  they  were  looking  for  the  stable  cause, 
source  rather,  of  the  changing  things  about  them, 
including  their  mortal  selves.  That,  once  discerned, 
would  satisfy  their  intellectual  natures,  since  it 
would  provide  a  basis  for  all  life  and  the  thought 
about  it;  would  thus  prove  for  themselves  a  sure 
intellectual  satisfaction. 

The  well-known  names  of  these  men  may  be  men- 
tioned, if  only  to  make  sure  that  there  were  ideas 
and  temperamental  elements  common  to  them  all, 
which  will  justify  some  generalisation  as  to  their 
views  and  their  adjustment.  Certainly  the  opinions 
of  those  first  open-eyed  and  open-minded  lonians  — 
Thales,  Anaximander,  Anaximenes  —  did  not  agree; 
and  the  thoughts  of  the  Ephesian  Heracleitus  dif- 
fered from  them  deeply.  Still  more  fundamentally 
the  physics  of  Parmenides  and  Zeno  differed  from  the 
scheme  of  Heracleitus.  They  were  Western  Greeks, 
called  Eleatics  after  Greek  Elea  founded  in  an  Italy 
not  yet  Italian.    That  the  hypotheses  of  all  these 


152  DELIVERANCE 

men  differed  is  not  the  point,  but  rather  that  they 
were  all  impelled  to  investigate  and  consider,  and 
seek  satisfaction  in  the  contemplation  of  the  world 
and  in  the  strength  of  their  meditations. 

The  three  first-named  were  citizens  of  Miletus,  a 
powerful  and  rich  and  active-minded  city  of  Asia 
Minor.  Yet  not  alone  within  its  walls,  but  through 
this  Ionia,  both  insular  and  of  the  mainland,  in 
the  seventh  and  following  centuries,  curiosity  was 
sleepless,  and  the  mind  moved  toward  Oeoypirj, 
<f)L\oar(j)Lrj,  and  iaropLr]  —  physical  observation,  specu- 
lation, and  the  human  story.  Thus  it  was  in 
Ionia,  and  when  colonies  of  these  lonians  sailed 
westward,  where  cities  might  be  founded  in  a 
benignant  land,  far  from  the  power  of  Lydians  and 
Persians,  the  colonists  did  not  change  their  minds 
by  changing  the  skies  above  them. 

The  opinions  of  these  early  Greek  thinkers  about 
the  world  are  not  to  be  despised,  just  because  we 
deem  ourselves  some  points  closer  to  the  great 
infinite  truth  of  things  than  they.  What  should  we 
think  about  the  world  if  we  were  to  regard  it  newly, 
with  no  advantage  from  the  range  of  thought  behind 
us,  including  the  opinions  of  these  very  men  f 
From  the  fragmentary  remains  and  corrupt  reports 
of  them,  it  is  hard  to  ascertain  even  their  main 
tenets,  and  impossible  to  do  more  than  hazardously 
imagine  their  data  and  methods  of  reasoning. 
Each  facet  of  their  thinking,  as  when  they  thought 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  1 53 

of  Sun  and  Earth,  had  not  the  significance  of  the 
like-named  symbols,  when  we  use  them  in  our 
thoughts.  The  same  words  have  other  meanings 
now. 

Yet  one  cannot  read  the  reports  concerning 
them,  and  the  fragments  of  their  utterances,  with- 
out realising  the  largeness  of  their  thinking;  and 
if  their  ideas  seem  crude  and  curious,  we  also  know 
how  they  passed  into  the  theories  of  Plato  and 
Aristotle,  to  be  made  over  or  furbished  up  so  as  to 
be  presentable  to  the  human  mind  for  ever  since. 
And  a  still  more  vital  bond  between  us  and  them 
lies  in  the  assumption,  which  may  well  be  an  assur- 
ance, that  as  common  intellectual  appetitions  tended 
to  unite  their  minds,  so  the  circle  of  human  unity 
may  readily  extend  to  include  those  even  among 
ourselves  who  find  contentment  in  research  and 
meditation.  These  men  are  gone,  and  but  seeming 
dust  remains  of  the  philosophies  with  which  their 
thoughts  were  occupied  and  their  lives  made  free. 
Yet  it  is  pleasant  for  us,  who  know  too  many  things 
and  not  enough,  to  turn  back  to  elemental  hypotheses 
and  feel  the  ancestry  of  the  men  who  devised  them. 

The  first  matter  of  the  world  is  water,  said  Thales; 
and  tradition  assures  us  of  the  constancy  with 
which  his  mind  was  busied  with  the  phenomena  of 
the  earth  and  heavens,  while  he  also  abstracted  his 
thoughts  through  geometry.  Likewise,  apparently, 
his   hearer  Anaximandros,    and   then  Anaximenes, 


154  DELIVERANCE 

found  satisfaction  in  an  elemental  main  hypothesis, 
while  it  is  also  plain  that  each  of  them  kept  his 
mind  active  upon  nature's  curious  phenomena. 
What  kind  of  investigation  and  imagination  brought 
the  former  to  assert  that  living  creatures  came  from 
the  moist  element  as  it  was  evaporated  by  the  sun, 
and  that  man  was  like  a  fish  in  the  beginning  ?  or 
led  the  latter  to  pregnant  conceptions  of  world- 
formation  through  rarefaction  and  condensation  ? 
Then  how  did  the  problematic  Pythagoras  come  by 
his  thought  of  transmigration,  for  example  ?  He, 
too,  took  comfort  in  geometry  and  numbers,  and 
realised  how  deeply  numerical  relationships  enter 
the  core  of  things.  His  possible  contemporary, 
Xenophanes,  seems  to  have  won  his  soul's  content 
by  raising  within  himself  an  idea  of  God,  neither  in 
form  or  thought  like  mortals,  but  sheer  sight  and 
thought  and  hearing;  toilless  and  moveless,  ruling 
by  his  thought.  Did  he  find  satisfaction  also  in  the 
sense  that  the  gods  had  not  revealed  all  things  in 
the  beginning .?  It  was  for  man  to  seek  and  find  in 
time  what  was  the  better.  Was  not  that  indeed 
the  blessed  sweat  of  his  mind,  by  which  he  should 
truly  live  ? 

Perhaps  the  same  was  felt  by  the  oracular  Hera- 
cleitus,  who  said  that  "Nature  loves  to  hide,"  or 
remain  hidden,  for  the  Greek  verb  is  in  the  middle 
voice.  He  lashed  the  stupidity  of  others,  —  of  the 
common  many  who  neither  know  nor  learn,   also 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  155 

even  of  those,  reputed  wise,  who  mistake  knowing 
many  things  for  understanding;  perhaps  most  par- 
ticularly all  those  who  would  not  listen  to  his  own 
satisfying  doctrine  that  everything  entrains  its 
opposite,  becomes  its  opposite,  and  in  truth  is  its 
opposite,  or  at  least  cannot  exist  without  its  oppo- 
site. There  can  be  no  One  without  a  Many,  to 
speak  in  later  phrase.  Conversely,  if  there  be  a 
conversely,  the  strife  of  opposites  is  equally  an 
attunement,  a  procreation  —  war  is  father  of  all. 
So  all  things  pass  into  each  other:  the  world,  un- 
created by  god  or  man,  is  an  everlasting  rekindling 
fire-transformation :  in  this  the  God  is  day  as  well 
as  night,  summer  as  well  as  winter,  both  death  and 
life. 

Was  there  not  enough  adjustment  for  this  man 
in  such  a  conception  of  the  universe  ?  Especially 
when  he  saw  law  and  measure  permeating  the  eternal 
flux,  and  in  human  affairs  recognised  the  abundant 
flow  of  law  divine  from  which  human  laws  are  fed, 
and  in  the  individual  man  perceived  that  his  char- 
acter was  his  fate  ? 

Such  thoughts  made  this  man's  peace  and  free- 
dom; as  likewise  did  the  thought  of  Parmenides 
for  him.  From  opposite  convictions  the  two  drew 
equal  satisfaction  —  the  one  resting  in  the  concep- 
tion of  ceaseless  change,  the  other  in  that  of  per- 
manent and  solid  being.  This  other  was  grandly 
reliant  on  his  thought  about  things  —  as  he  thought. 


1 56  DELIVERANCE 

so  must  they  be;  so  must  Being  be:  "for  it  is  the 
same  thing  that  can  be  thought  and  that  can  be." 
Thought  and  thought's  end  or  source  are  the  same. 
Hence  existence,  which  is  a  moveless  corporeal 
plenum,  conforms  to  the  philosopher's  necessary 
thought  of  it.  Comfort  enough  here !  There  is 
neither  coming  into  being,  nor  passing  away.  It  is 
interesting  to  note  that  Parmenides,  with  his 
"Greek"  love  of  the  definite,  conceived  his  plenum 
of  being  as  a  finite,  though  eternal,  sphere.  But 
his  follower,  Melissus,  saw  the  impossibility  of 
spatial  limit  to  reality. 

One  is  obliged  to  mention  that  strange  wonder- 
worker, and  yet  scientific  investigator  and  philoso- 
pher, Empedocles  of  Agragas,  with  his  fateful  four 
elements,  which  were  really  six.  For  to  the  four 
must  be  added  Love  and  Strife,  Love  the  mixer. 
Strife  the  separator  and  refashioner  —  two  effi- 
cient causes,  comments  Aristotle,  and  yet  material, 
being  themselves  measurable  portions  of  the  brew. 

The  difficulty,  as  it  would  seem,  of  conceiving 
force  or  agency  save  as  a  ponderable  corporeal 
thing,  was  a  pregnant  confusion,  out  of  which 
Greek  thought  was  destined  most  profitably  to  rise. 
The  process  of  this  evolution,  as  yet  incomplete, 
appears  in  the  nimble  and  potent  agency  of  forma- 
tive creation  which  Anaxagoras  devised  and  desig- 
nated by  the  name  of  Nous,  the  Greek  word  for 
mind.     It  was  he  who  came  to  Athens  on  Pericles' 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  157 

invitation,  doubtless  to  his  advantage,  and  yet  also 
to  be  the  first  of  the  philosophers  persecuted  by 
that  jealous  and  suspicious  demos.  Holding,  as  he 
did,  that  all  things  are  constituted  of  an  infinite 
number  of  infinitesimal  seeds,  so  that  all  things  are 
in  everything,  and  no  thing  is  so  small  as  not  to  par- 
take of  all,  holding  to  this  view,  he  felt  the  need  of 
an  efficient  Arranger  of  the  infinite  constituent  seeds 
of  things,  something  apart  from  them.  And  thus 
he  describes  it : 

"All  other  things  partake  in  a  portion  of  every 
thing,  while  Nous  is  infinite  and  self-ruled,  and  is 
mixed  with  nothing,  but  is  alone,  itself  by  itself. 
For  if  it  were  not  by  itself  but  were  mixed  with 
anything  else,  it  would  partake  in  all  things  if  it 
were  mixed  with  any  .  .  .  and  the  things  mixed 
with  it  would  hinder  it,  so  that  it  would  have 
power  over  nothing  in  the  same  way  that  it  has  now, 
being  alone  by  itself.  For  it  is  the  thinnest  of  all 
things  and  the  purest,  and  it  has  all  knowledge 
about  everything  and  the  greatest  strength;  and 
Nous  has  power  over  all  things,  both  greater  and 
smaller,  that  have  life.  And  Nous  had  power  over 
the  whole  revolution,  so  that  it  began  to  revolve 
in  the  beginning.  And  it  began  to  revolve  first 
from  a  small  beginning;  but  the  revolution  now 
extends  over  a  larger  space,  and  will  extend  over  a 
larger  still.  And  all  the  things  that  are  mingled 
together  and  separated  off  and  distinguished  are  all 


158  DELIVERANCE 

known  by  Nous.  And  Nous  set  in  order  all  things 
that  were  to  be,  and  all  things  that  were  and  are 
not  now  and  that  are,  and  this  revolution  in  which 
now  revolve  the  stars  and  the  sun  and  the  moon, 
and  the  air  and  the  aether  that  are  separated  off. 
And  this  revolution  caused  the  separating  off,  and 
the  rare  is  separated  off  from  the  dense,  the  warm 
from  the  cold,  the  light  from  the  dark,  and  the  dry 
from  the  moist.  And  there  are  many  portions  in 
many  things.  But  no  thing  is  altogether  separated 
off  nor  distinguished  from  anything  else  except 
Nous.  And  all  Nous  is  alike,  both  the  greater 
and  the  smaller;  while  nothing  else  is  like  any 
thing  else,  but  each  single  thing  is  and  was  most 
manifestly  those  things  of  which  it  has  most  in 
it."  1 

Nous  is  thus  a  moving,  ordering,  and  knowing 
substance.  With  but  a  mechanical  mentality  it  is 
not  yet  sheer  immaterial  mind.  Yet  it  is  groping 
thither  —  dreaming  on  thoughts  to  come.  We 
may  be  sure  of  its  vital  importance  in  the  scheme  of 
thought  wherein  this  philosopher  found  his  con- 
tent. And  as  for  the  man's  effect,  one  perhaps  may 
say  that  he  started  the  Mind  on  its  career  as  Demi- 
urge, and  made  way  for  the  conception  of  the 
Divine  Will  as  Creator  of  the  Universe. 

Early  Greek  thought,  unspiritualised  in  its  con- 

*  Translation  taken  from  J.  Burnet's  Early  Greek  Philosophy y 
p.  301  (2d  Ed.,  1908),  to  which  the  writer  is  otherwise  indebted. 


GREEK   PHILOSOPHERS  159 

ceptions,  and  looking  to  matter  as  the  primeval 
source,  might  well  regard  matter  and  being  as  co- 
extensive. Matter  and  no-matter,  conceived  as 
equivalent  to  Being  and  no-Being,  led  to  the  Eleatic 
denial  of  motion,  the  most  universal  fact  of  obser- 
vation as  well  as  the  necessary  postulate  of  any 
explanation  of  the  World.  An  escape  from  this 
dilemma  was  furnished  by  the  Atoms  of  Leucippus 
and  Democritus,  infinite  in  number,  indivisible,  of 
every  shape,  possessing  the  eternal  and  indestructible 
qualities  of  the  Eleatic  Being,  but  separated  from 
each  other  by  narrow  fissures  of  space,  and  in  cease- 
less motion.  Their  falling  whirl  produced  the 
natural  forms  of  the  visible  Kosmos,  and  even  the 
souls  of  men,  which  consisted  of  fiery  atoms  having 
the  liveliest  motion.^ 

There  is  no  need  to  say  more  of  this  mightiest 
and  most  fruitful  of  all  Greek  physical  hypotheses, 
the  substance  of  which  apparently  Leucippus 
delivered  to  Democritus.  But  the  latter  extended 
and  coordinated  and  humanised  philosophy  as  none 
had  done  before  him.     How  can  one  sum  up  such  a 

^  The  notions  of  matter  and  reality  or  existence  not  having 
been  distinguished  before  Leucippus's  time,  he  could  predicate  the 
existence  of  empty  space  only  in  uncouth  and  equivocal  terms. 
He  had  to  say  that  what  is  not  {i.e.  not  matter)  is  of  no  less 
account  than  what  is  {i.e.  matter),  and  "that  both  are  alike  the 
causes  of  things  that  come  into  being."  Simplicius  quoting 
from  Theophrastus  —  Diels,  Fragmente  der  Vorsokratiker^  2d  Ed., 
Bd.  I,  p.  345,  and  trans,  by  Burnet,  Early  Greek  Phil.,  p.  384. 


l6o  DELIVERANCE 

man  from  the  fragments  that  remain  of  his  many 
and  admirable  books,  —  of  whom  Aristotle  says 
that  no  one  had  so  profoundly  considered  growth 
and  change  ?  His  was  a  prodigious  vision,  a  vision 
of  the  mind,  inductive,  microscopic,  penetrating  to 
the  infinitesimal,  and  extending  to  an  infinitude  of 
worlds  beyond  the  range  of  mortal  eye.  It  is  hard 
for  us  to  make  his  fiery  soul-atoms  think;  but  we 
are  amazed  at  his  insight  into  the  ways  of  the  ap- 
prehending mind,  as  when  he  distinguished  between 
the  "primary"  and  "secondary"  qualities  of  objects. 
Busied  with  physical  investigations,  he  fruitfully 
recognised  the  need  to  consider  the  differences 
between  the  convincing  apperceptions  of  the  atoms 
of  his  soul  and  the  confusions  issuing  from  the 
atoms  of  sensation.  Although  he  did  not,  like  his 
very  different  contemporary  Socrates,  try  his 
thought  in  the  dialectic  of  definition,  he  formed  a 
canon  of  principles  by  which  to  discriminate  between 
the  means  and  method  of  true  knowledge  and  the 
ways  of  fallacious  opinion,  springing  from  the  five 
senses. 

Rational  knowledge  became  for  this  man  the 
standard  not  only  of  thinking  but  of  living.  Before 
its  bar  he  endeavoured  to  order  the  contents  of  life, 
—  whatever  entered  into  human  welfare  or  misery. 
While  his  fundamental  physical  hypotheses  held  to 
the  laws  of  that  necessity  which  left  no  place  for 
divine  interposition,  he  yet  evolved  from  his  clearly 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  i6l 

graduated  discrimination  a  finely  spiritualised  ethics. 
Knowledge,  virtue,  happiness,  were  at  one  in  his 
scheme  of  life.  "From  understanding  proceed  good 
counsel,  unerring  speech,  and  right  conduct."  With 
him,  thought  and  intent  are  always  the  criterion, 
and  the  good  things  of  the  spirit  are  more  divine. 
"Happiness  and  misery  are  of  the  soul."  A  con- 
tented mind  makes  the  best  life  for  man ;  tempering 
one's  will  to  avoid  the  tumult  of  desire.  "Good- 
ness lies  not  merely  in  doing  no  wrong,  but  in  wish- 
ing to  do  none."  "A  man  should  be  most  ashamed 
before  himself."  For  all  men,  education  in  virtue 
is  better  than  the  constraint  of  laws. 

A  cheerful  soul  was  this  Democritus,  who  said 
that  a  "life  without  its  festivals  was  a  long  road 
without  an  inn  to  rest  at."  But  a  veritable  mon- 
arch in  his  thought  was  he,  who  desired  knowledge 
rather  than  the  wealth  of  the  Great  King,  and  knew 
that  "to  the  wise  man  the  whole  earth  is  open; 
for  the  Universe  is  the  fatherland  of  a  noble  soul." 
Thus  his  temper  and  philosophy  made  a  large  ad- 
justment, a  home  of  peace,  a  spring  of  freedom  for 
this  great-minded  man. 

The  immediate  antecedent  of  Plato  is  Socrates; 
but  Plato's  philosophy  holds  all  prior  and  contempo- 
rary Greek  thought  and  feeling,  from  Thales  to  the 
Sophists  and  Plato's  own  generation  of  Socrates'  sup- 
posed disciples,  and  from  Homer  to  Euripides  and 
Aristophanes.     A  further  fringing  background  for  his 


1 62  DELIVERANCE 

thought  is  the  supposed  traditional  wisdom  of  the 
older  Mediterranean  world. 

The  Sophists  played  an  educational  role,  and  also 
introduced  an  analytic  self-consciousness  into  Greek 
thinking.  But  their  exaggerated  insistence  upon 
the  individual  as  the  measure  of  all  values,  includ- 
ing truth,  loosed  men  from  their  proper  anchorages 
in  moral  conviction  and  philosophic  certitude.  No 
veritable  adjustment,  no  surety  of  spiritual  freedom, 
could  come  through  such  intellectual  dissipation. 

Save  by  reaction.  That  gained  moral  force  and 
took  dialectic  form  in  Socrates,  and  flowered  with 
many  a  dazzling  hue  in  Plato.  We  have  all  known 
the  former  from  our  childhood ;  none  the  less  is  he 
an  enigma.  Undoubtedly  this  keenest  of  ques- 
tioners so  conducted  his  inquiries  as  to  lead  on  and 
up  to  well-defined  conceptions;  and  undoubtedly 
in  this  way  he  deepened  the  self-consciousness  and 
self-criticism  of  philosophic  thinking.  So,  no  one 
disputes  the  measured  words  of  Aristotle  which 
ascribe  to  him  the  inductive  method  and  general 
concepts  or  definitions.  We  also  believe  that,  with 
unswerving  ethical  earnestness,  he  strove  con- 
stantly, through  this  method,  and  making  use  of 
the  resulting  definitions,  to  arrive  at  laws  of  conduct 
valid  for  all  men,  because  founded  on  conceptions 
true  for  all.  With  confidence,  finally,  we  ascribe 
to  him  the  principle  that  wisdom  and  virtue  are  the 
same:    true  knowledge   must   produce   right   con- 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  163 

duct;  since  no  one  errs  or  sins  willingly.  This,  at 
all  events,  was  true  of  Socrates  himself,  and  made 
the  basis  of  his  adjustment  in  that  fearless  and 
rational  freedom  of  right  conduct,  which  has  held 
the  admiration  of  mankind. 

Cicero's  memorable  statement,  that  Socrates 
called  Philosophy  down  from  the  heavens  and  estab- 
lished her  in  the  abodes  of  men,  and,  as  we  say,  set 
her  upon  the  study  of  man,  is  eulogy  which  Socrates 
may  well  deserve,  but  which,  in  justice,  he  must 
share  at  least  with  Democritus  and  the  Sophists. 

A  number  of  gifted  human  beings  seem  bound 
together  in  the  personality  of  Plato;  and  the  ad- 
justment wherein  so  manifold  a  nature  could  bring 
its  different  faculties  to  harmonious  action  had  need 
to  include  more  than  one  field  of  satisfying  activity, 
more  than  one  fount  of  peace.  Plato  was  hotly  in 
love  with  mortal  beauty;  and  doubtless  often  had 
to  bridle  what  we  of  northern  climes  and  modern 
times  might  call  his  sensuality.  More  constantly, 
however,  the  image-building,  story-building  imagi- 
nation of  this  poet  and  dramatist,  superseding  the 
importunities  of  sense,  dispersed  his  passion  in 
poetic  myths,  or  employed  his  faculties  in  dramas 
of  the  mind,  with  plots  formed  from  the  stress  and 
pitfalls  of  dialectic.  Plato's  desires  change  and  are 
transfigured  as  they  pass  from  the  lower  to  the 
higher  planes  of  his  nature.  Its  topmost  needs  were 
those  of  its  metaphysical  energies;    its  sublimest 


1 64  DELIVERANCE 

insistency  was  as  to  the  reality  of  mind  and  the 
validity  of  concepts  mentally  visualised,  and  tested, 
if  not  formed,  by  an  argumentation  which  might  be 
destructive  or  constructive,  severe,  stupendous, 
whimsical,  but  captivating  usually,  and  always 
carried  forward  by  a  resistlessly  creative  imagination. 
What  other  man  ever  had  such  joy  in  the  work 
and  play  of  his  mind  as  Plato  !  Here  was  his  real 
absorption,  his  real  deliverance  —  that  which  veri- 
tably made  his  spiritual  freedom  and  his  peace.  It 
satisfied  him,  and  he  trusted  it.  His  was  a  great 
faith.  His  confidence  was  absolute  in  the  convic- 
tions of  his  mind,  as  well  as  in  the  certainty  of  the 
realisation  of  its  imperative  demands.  Magnificent 
as  was  his  dialectic,  strenuous  as  might  be  its  argu- 
ments, Plato's  faith  was  pinned  to  none  of  them. 
While  willing  to  follow  whither  the  living  and  breath- 
ing argument  might  lead,  he  may  be  no  more  serious 
in  his  reliance  on  its  procedure  or  conclusion,  than 
he  is  upon  the  truth  of  the  illustrative  tales  he 
knows  so  well  to  weave.  For,  as  the  precursor  of 
all  that  after  him  might  be  named  Platonic  or  Neo- 
platonic,  he  is  always  conscious  that  no  argument 
can  compass  the  whole  truth  —  of  which  the 
processes  of  dialectic  mirror  the  broken  rays. 
Throughout  the  Dialogues,  his  parables,  whether 
parables  of  the  poetic  imagination  or  the  less  obvious 
parables  of  dialectic,  change  and  pass;  and  while 
he  may  have  been  earnest  with  them  at  the  time. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  165 

they  remain  but  tentative,  open  to  refutation,  ready 
to  be  exchanged  for  something  truer  or  more  illu- 
minative. None  the  less  was  he  insistent  that  his 
convictions  should  be  set  in  reason,  should  be 
reasoned  out  through  argument  —  if  that  were  only 
possible  ! 

The  most  famous  and  influential  form  assumed  by 
Plato's  conviction  of  the  absolute  reality  of  things 
spiritual  was  the  "Platonic  Idea."  The  mind  con- 
templates the  universals  in  all  things,  sees  them 
everywhere.  With  Plato,  these  type-ideas,  from 
existing  solely  in  the  mind,  likewise  transcend  it, 
and  are  beheld  as  absolute  spiritual  entities,  and  as 
the  creating  shaping  powers  of  the  objects  of  sense- 
perception —  which  are  their  creatures  or  images. 
Noblest  and  realest  of  all  is  the  idea  of  the  Good, 
the  most  absolute  of  ideal  prototypes  as  well  as 
perhaps  the  most  universal  plaistic  power.  Shall  it 
not  be  as  God,  —  the  Fashioner  of  the  World,  the 
Mea^sure  of  all  things  ? 

With  Plato,  the  conceptions  of  the  mind  are  like- 
wise the  desires  of  his  soul.  His  spiritual  nature 
flows  out  to  them  desirously,  yearning  to  bring 
them  to  realisation  in  his  soul.  This  is  the  soul's 
health  and  well-being,  its  blessed  happiness :  to 
mirror  and  realise  within  itself  beauty,  justice, 
goodness,  the  excellence  of  every  virtue.  In  this 
realisation,  this  making  real,  are  set  the  freedom 
and  the  peace  of  Plato,  the  blessed  mood  which 


1 66  DELIVERANCE 

sometimes  we  also  may  gain  from  reading  the 
Phcedo  or  the  Phadrus,  the  Gorgias  or  the  Theatcetus. 

One  sees  how  Plato's  ethical  convictions,  whether 
received  from  his  master,  or  his  very  own,  have 
root  in  these  conceptions  of  the  mind  which  are  also 
the  desires  of  his  soul.  Knowledge  and  Virtue  are 
the  same :  How  can  one  know  these  beautiful  ideas 
and  not  desire  them  ?  and  not  realise  them  ?  Only 
through  knowing  them  imperfectly  can  one  sin  or 
err.  And  again,  even  more  obviously,  justice  is  an 
excellence  of  the  soul,  of  man's  veritable  self:  it  is 
almost  a  truism  —  if  only  the  world  would  accept 
it  —  that  the  unjust  man  cannot  be  in  a  state  of 
well-being,  cannot  be  veritably  happy.  The  best 
that  can  come  to  him  is  to  be  punished,  which  is 
to  be  healed.  How  then  can  one  doubt  that  it  is 
better  to  suffer,  than  to  do,  injustice  ?  Or  how 
can  any  harm  whatever  be  his  who  has  realised 
that  Best  within  him  which  is  the  idea  of  the  Good  ? 
Or,  in  common  words,  how  can  ill  come  to  a  good 
man  ?  And  as  for  truth,  —  is  it  not  the  verity  of 
the  good  ?  how  shall  one  not  crave  it  and  esteem  it 
always  ? 

Plato's  freedom  dwelt  in  these  convictions,  and 
in  his  faith  in  them.  As  he  grew  older,  he  held 
with  increasing  assurance  that  the  world  is  ruled 
by  Mind,  and  not  left,  a  chance  medley,  to  unreason 
(Philebus).  Did  not  God  create  it,  and  create  it 
because  he  was  good,  and  form  it  somehow  in  the 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  167 

likeness  of  God,  and  with  a  soul  throughout  its 
being  ?  {Timaus).  In  his  earlier  as  well  as  later 
Dialogues,  he  assumes  the  existence  of  the  spiritual 
when  he  is  not  engaged  in  proving  it:  the  con- 
viction of  the  reality  and  the  eternal  indestructibility 
of  the  human  soul  abides  with  him,  and  he  in  it. 
It  was  Plato  who  added  this  philosophic  conviction 
of  immortality  to  the  human  adjustment  lying  in  the 
6e(i}prp-LKo<s  Plo^  —  the  search  and  contemplation  of 
truth.  In  one  dialogue  at  least  {Phcedo)  he  argues 
with  clear  austerity  that  only  after  separation  from 
the  body  can  the  soul  attain  its  fairest  being  in 
knowledge  of  the  truth. 

The  Platonic  ideal,  which  the  Platonic  faith 
realises  and  transforms  into  the  Platonic  deliverance 
of  the  soul,  lies  —  if  one  dare  make  any  such 
assertion  as  to  this  Protean  genius  —  in  the  com- 
plete and  beautiful  perfecting  of  the  soul,  which  is 
man's  spiritual  and  immortal  part:  the  perfecting 
of  it  in  the  knowledge  of  virtue  and  the  virtue  of 
knowledge;  the  rendering  of  the  soul  perfect  and 
fair,  in  truth  and  in  right  conduct,  in  geometry 
and  music  and  dialectic  (with  fitting  conceptions  of 
the  Universe  and  its  Maker)  as  well  as  in  courage 
and  justice.  The  things  of  the  world  of  sense- 
perception  have  their  value  too,  giving  temperate 
pleasure  and  satisfaction  to  the  outer  man,  and  to 
the  soul  as  well,  so  long  as  they  head  no  revolt 
against  its  leadership.     All  these  phases  of  human 


1 68  DELIVERANCE 

concern  are  included,  and  the  lower  subordinated 
to  the  higher,  in  that  consideration  of  Hfe  and  its 
regulation,  which  Plato  wrote  in  his  last  years,  and 
called  the  Laws.  It  holds  the  soul  and  God 
above  all,  and  impresses  one  as  the  most  devout  and 
religious  composition  of  the  classic  world.  If  it 
suffers  somewhat  from  an  octogenarian  prolixity,  it 
has  broader  human  wisdom  than  the  much  earlier 
Republic.  It  contains  the  last  turns  of  Plato's 
thinking  and  will  be  found  a  storehouse  of  Aristo- 
telianism  (that  virtue  is  a  mean  is  in  it),  and  later 
thought. 

No  more  than  in  the  case  of  Plato,  is  there  any 
need  for  us  to  attempt  a  statement  of  the  contents 
of  Aristotle's  system.  We  have  but  to  consider 
the  end,  or  rather  spring,  of  his  philosophy  —  the 
final  cause,  if  one  will  use  the  term,  by  reason  of 
which  he  philosophised,  and  through  which  this 
most  prodigious  of  philosophers  found  his  satis- 
faction. 

Aristotle  clearly  stated  his  ideal  of  the  noblest  and 
most  satisfying,  as  well  as  the  most  divine,  mode  of 
life  that  man  can  reach :  and  then  he  exemplified 
this  ideal  in  himself,  and  demonstrated  that  it  held 
his  best  freedom  of  action,  his  best  activity,  his 
actualisation,  his  ei/rcXex^ia,  the  fulfilment  of  him- 
self in  the  attainment  of  his  final  end  and  actuality. 
This  was,  of  course,  the  life  of  mind,  and  pre- 
eminently of  the  mind  fixed  upon  the  contemplation 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  169 

of  ultimate  causes;  while  from  this  highest  func- 
tion of  the  soul,  the  true  activities  of  man  sloped 
downward,  broadening  to  a  base  of  virtues  which 
are  rooted,  and  also  have  their  end,  in  character  and 
conduct. 

Aristotle's  intellect  penetrated  every  province  of 
investigation.  He  drew  all  human  knowledge  to 
himself,  added  to  it  from  his  own  thinking  and  re- 
search, and  stamped  the  whole  indelibly  with  the 
methods  through  which  he  mastered  it  and  the  forms 
in  which  he  apprehended  it.  Which  province 
satisfied  him  best,  is  hard  to  tell,  even  though  he 
says  that  a  knowledge  —  the  investigation  —  of 
final  causes  is  the  most  delightful.  Nor,  per- 
haps, is  it  right  to  decide  this  point  by  the  result  of 
his  labours,  estimated  in  the  light  of  our  present 
views  upon  the  universe  and  human  society.  Speak- 
ing from  this  standpoint,  we  might  term  him  (in 
our  presumption)  an  unhappy  physicist,  especially 
in  astronomy  fatally  reactionary,  and  blind  to  those 
conceptions  of  his  time  which  proved  themselves 
the  best.  In  the  further  realm  of  metaphysics 
(more  properly  named  ontology),  no  one  would 
dare  not  call  him  great.  Then  in  the  constructive 
analysis  and  classification  of  the  forms  and  cate- 
gories of  valid  statement,  he  was,  for  good  or  ill, 
for  mental  discipline  or  sterilisation,  the  creator  of 
formal  logic.  Further,  he  wrote  most  notably  upon 
the  Soul  or  Life  of  man,  and  of  its  faculties  and 


170  DELIVERANCE 

ways  of  apprehension.  Then,  wonderful  to  say, 
with  powers  unimpeded  by  such  preoccupations  and 
sometimes  even  detached  from  them,  he  was  a  great 
biologist,  pre-eminent  as  a  classifier  of  living  organ- 
isms, and  as  a  comparative  anatomist  and  em- 
bryologist.  Finally,  how  can  we  think  him  less 
interested  in  human  society  and  human  conduct, 
a,nd  in  the  arts  which  captivate  and  delight  men  ? 
—  seeing  that  he  composed  a  work  on  Ethics 
rightly  admired  by  many  generations  of  mankind, 
and  a  work  on  Politics  of  enormous  influence,  and 
also  works  on  Rhetoric  and  the  Art  of  Poetry.  No, 
we  will  not  presume  to  say  in  what  department  of 
intellectual  creation  this  stupendous  Aristotle  took 
the  keenest  joy,  but  simply  recall  to  mind  certain 
of  his  statements  and  bits  of  his  exposition  of  human 
nature  and  its  proper  functions,  wherein  he  shows 
at  once  his  ideal  of  happiness,  and  the  method  of 
his  spiritual  freedom. 

That  which  man  always  seeks  for  its  own  sake, 
as  a  final  end,  is  his  happiness,  his  well-being,  — 
cvSai/xovwx.  It  is  this  which  suffices  of  itself,  and 
makes  life  desirable.  It  is  man's  true  self-fulfil- 
ment, through  the  proper  activity  or  functioning 
of  his  nature.  But  his  nature,  or,  if  one  will,  his 
life,  is  in  part  shared  by  the  plants  and  the  animals 
other  than  man,  all  obviously  below  him  in  the  scale 
of  being.  That  which  is  his  unshared  own,  and  the 
best  that  is   in   him,   is   his   rational   intelligence, 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  1 71 

which  most  clearly  knows  itself  and  is  most  amply- 
self-conscious.  Or  we  may  say  this  highest  part  of 
man  is  the  highest  part  of  that  which  constitutes  his 
organic  life,  or,  rather,  the  first  stage  of  its  actuali- 
sation  or  fulfilment,  its  first  ivTcXexcui,  to  wit,  his 
soul.  For  soul,  with  Aristotle,  is  most  comprehen- 
sive, and  means  the  life  of  the  whole  human  organ- 
ism taking  its  first  form,  entering  indeed  upon  a 
composite  self-realisation,  to  wit,  of  its  nutritive 
and  sensitive  faculties,  as  well  as  its  faculty  of 
thought. 

So  the  highest  and  most  peculiar  and  proper 
part  of  man  and  of  his  soul  or  life,  is  intelligence. 
But  that,  like  all  of  life,  is  an  activity,  or  at  least 
actualises  or  fulfils  itself  as  an  activity,  and  not  as 
a  passive  state.  Life  is  action,  and  the  highest 
part  of  life  consists  in  the  self-conscious  action  of 
the  understanding.  And  herein  consists  man's 
evSaiixovMy  —  his  final  end  and  happiness,  —  and  from 
our  present  point  of  view,  his  peace  and  freedom 
and  dehverance. 

Let  us  make  this  more  explicit.  The  rational 
part  of  the  soul  or  life  of  man,  the  ^v)(rj,  is  twofold, 
practical  and  contemplative.  The  practical  j/'vx? 
is  occupied  with  contingent  changing  things,  which 
may  be  affected  by  our  action;  the  contemplative 
is  directed  to  the  speculative  knowledge  of  that 
which  is  of  necessity  and  changeless.  These  psychic 
faculties,  termed  respectively,  if  one  will,  prudence 


172  DELIVERANCE 

and  wisdom,  represent  the  practical,  or  ethical,  and 
the  speculative  virtues,  though  the  term  virtue  is 
usually  appropriated  to  the  former.  The  practical 
virtues  are  requisite  for  the  happiness  of  man  as  a 
social  animal.  They  do  not  come  through  instruc- 
tion as  much  as  through  constant  practice,  thereby 
becoming  ingrained  as  habits  of  conduct,  which, 
inasmuch  as  they  spring  from  reason  or  obey  it, 
are  to  be  deemed  purposeful  or  selective.  Their 
characteristic  is  the  avoidance  of  excess,  or  the  pur- 
suance of  the  proper  mean,  in  conformity  to  the 
conduct  and  opinions  of  the  best  men.  For  their 
practice,  moreover,  opportunity  is  needed,  and  some 
moderate  supporting  share  of  material  goods. 

To  a  less,  but  still  to  some,  degree,  material  goods 
are  needed  for  that  highest  happiness  which  con- 
sists in  the  enduring  activity  of  the  speculative 
reason,  and  has  solely  knowledge  as  its  end.  It  is 
sought  for  the  sake  of  no  advantage  beyond  itself, 
and  thus  is  free  from  all  practical  and  contingent 
aims.  Well  we  know  that  Aristotle  was  a  lover  of 
all  knowledge,  even  of  the  meanest  creatures  and 
their  smallest  functions.  And  yet  this  man  of 
universal  intellectual  appetition,  who  recognised 
something  wonderful  in  every  work  of  nature, 
desired  to  rise  from  these  broad  low  fields  of  knowl- 
edge of  the  caused  and  changeable  to  the  investi- 
gation and  contemplation  of  the  changeless  causes, 
in    their    uncontingent    absoluteness:  —  surely    the 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  173 

freest  of  all  sciences  and  the  most  self-sufficing,  and 
its  votaries  the  freest  of  mankind,  and  the  most 
divine,  the  most  like  God. 

For  God,  in  Aristotle's  scheme  of  physics  and 
ontology,  as  well  as  in  his  consideration  of  human 
and  divine  happiness,  is  the  moveless  mover,  draw- 
ing all  things  through  their  desire  for  the  supreme 
Good  that  he  is.  But  he  is  also  the  Contemplator 
par  excellence ;  and  if  the  Contemplator,  what  should 
be  worthy  of  his  contemplation  save  Himself? 
Therefore  the  man  who  leads  the  life  of  knowledge 
is  like  God,  and  he  whose  mind  is  fixed,  so  far  as 
may  be  possible  for  man,  upon  the  causes  of  all  being, 
is  most  like  God. 

The  highest  pleasure  forms  part  of  this  highest 
happiness.  Happiness  is  an  active  energy;  and 
pleasure  {rjhovrj)  is  part  and  parcel  of  its  true  and 
unimpeded  action,  its  perfecting,  its  reXciWi?. 
Pleasure  thus  perfects  (tcXcioi)  the  energy  (cVc/oyctav) 
which  is  happiness  and  which  is  life.  It  is  so  closely 
part  of  the  perfect  energising  of  the  energy,  that  one 
need  not  ask  which  is  loved  for  the  other's  sake. 

The  progress  of  Greek  thought  did  not  cease  with 
Aristotle;  but  its  energies  separated  into  several 
channels.  Astronomy,  mathematics,  physics,  botany, 
through  Theophrastus,  Aristarchus,  Eratosthenes, 
Hipparchus,  Ptolemy,  Euclid,  and  Archimedes,  were 
still  to  make  notable  advance;  and  these  pursuits 
brought    peace    to    the    keen    minds    absorbed    in 


174  DELIVERANCE 

them.  But  on  the  other  hand,  philosophy,  prop- 
erly or  popularly  so-called,  lost  its  balanced  uni- 
versality. Plato  and  Aristotle,  while  profoundly 
conscious  of  the  relation  of  philosophic  knowledge  to 
man's  practical  well-being,  loved  knowledge  abso- 
lutely, for  its  own  sake  and  for  the  joy  of  it.  But 
Stoicism,  a  partial  exotic,  since  its  founder  Zeno  was 
a  Syrian,  had  narrower  interests.  It  regarded 
knowledge  as  a  means;  ethics,  with  human  well- 
being  as  its  practical  end,  was  the  real  Stoical  con- 
cern. Altered  political  and  social  conditions  were 
among  the  causes  of  this  change.  As  the  city-states 
gave  way  to  huge  Hellenistic  kingdoms,  which  were 
in  turn  to  yield  to  Roman  rule,  men  realised  their 
political  impotence,  and  felt  but  a  loosened  interest 
in  public  affairs.  It  was  enough  for  them  to  keep 
their  lives  clear  of  misfortune.  And  so  philosophy, 
its  spirit  somewhat  quelled  with  the  contracted 
freedom  of  its  votaries,  turned  from  the  search  for 
independent  and  objective  truth,  and  concentrated 
its  efforts  on  that  which  should  insure  to  the  philo- 
sophic individual  a  happy  life,  or  one  free  from 
pain.  In  Stoicism,  philosophy  became  a  palpable 
adjustment  of  human  conduct  with  the  Stoic  view 
of  human  nature  and  the  nature  of  the  world,  and 
a  self-conscious  endeavour  after  that  freedom  which 
is  peace.  The  same  may  be  said  of  Stoicism's 
apparent  opposite.  Epicureanism,  which  was  also  a 
sheer  adjustment,  and  did  not  strive  as  strenuously 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  175 

as  Its  rival  to  base  its  practical  principles  upon  a 
knowledge  of  man  and  the  world  he  dwelt  in.  Both 
systems  thus  endangered  the  progress  of  that  with 
which  they  really  were  concerned.  For  whenever 
the  enthusiastic  and  apparently  disinterested  quest 
of  knowledge  weakens,  ethics  loses  the  enlarging 
basis  of  increasing  wisdom  needed  for  ethical  ad- 
vance. 

But  in  the  meanwhile,  in  its  Greek  periods  before 
it  became  adapted  to  the  Roman  temperament, 
Stoicism  looked  earnestly  to  the  constitution  of  the 
universe  for  a  basis  of  its  conviction  that  reason  is 
man*s  essential  nature,  and  that  his  sole  good  con- 
sists in  acting  according  to  its  dictates :  such  action 
is  virtue,  which  thus  becomes  a  thing  of  reason  and 
of  the  firm  will  to  act  in  accord.  But  human  reason 
is  part  of  the  reason  of  the  universe,  part  of  uni- 
versal law,  which  likewise  is  felt  to  be  the  law  or 
will  of  God  —  all-ruling,  all-permeating,  moving 
everything  with  purpose  as  with  power,  suiting  and 
harmonising  each  with  all. 

Viewing  Stoicism  from  this  end,  one  wonders  to 
find  its  ethics  set  in  a  materialistic  conception  of  the 
universe,  including  God  and  the  human  soul  and 
virtue  itself:  all  being  is  material;  the  universe,  in- 
cluding God  and  man,  consists  of  matter  in  a  state 
of  tension,  or,  if  one  will,  of  passive  matter  com- 
plemented by  its  activity  of  force.  God  is  this 
force  or  law,  all-moving,  all-commingling,  moulding 


176  DELIVERANCE 

all  things  to  their  proper  ends.  The  human  soul  is 
part  of  this  force,  this  law,  this  soul  of  the  universe, 
which  is  God.  It  is  diffused  like  warm  breath 
throughout  the  body,  and  though  it  may  for  a  while 
continue  individual  after  the  body's  dissolution,  it 
will  eventually  be  resolved  into  the  world-soul.  Its 
master  part,  its  truest  activity,  is  reason. 

Thus,  having  doubtless  leapt  over  many  incon- 
sistencies, we  are  back  at  reason  and  human  conduct 
rationally  directed  by  the  will,  which  is  virtue  and 
man's  sole  good  and  happiness.  All  else  is  indif- 
ferent. The  emotions  are  to  be  suppressed;  pleas- 
ure, likewise  pain,  is  a  thing  of  naught.  These  con- 
victions made  the  fortress  of  the  Stoic's  peace ;  they 
also  made  the  sphere  of  his  freedom,,  where  no  fear 
might  enter,  nor  tribulation  disturb.  Within  this 
sphere  of  freedom,  the  lure  of  pleasures  and  the 
shackles  of  tyrants  were  alike  irrelevant.  Such 
convictions  were  not  merely  highminded  figments 
of  the  Stoic  imagination,  but  even  formed  the  Stoic 
practice.  Yet  in  time,  the  famous  Stoic  apathy  was 
replaced  by  self-mastery  and  obedience  to  the  will 
of  reason,  amid  pains  and  pleasures.  These  like- 
wise were  raised  from  the  class  of  things  indifferent 
to  that  of  things  preferential.  And  all  the  while 
the  Stoic,  from  his  recognition  of  the  unity  of  the 
world  and  the  oneness  of  its  purpose,  perceived  the 
common  brotherhood  of  man,  and  gained  a  wider 
peace  in  virtuous  civic  conduct. 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  1 77 

This  was  one  sign  of  the  coming  time.  Another 
was  the  strong  rehgiousness  with  which  the  Stoic 
soul  turned  to  the  central  source  of  virtue,  the 
personification  of  all-ruling  law  —  God.  This  fer- 
vour finds  a  voice  in  the  devout  hymn  to  Zeus  by 
Cleanthes,  Zeno's  successor,  wherein  the  Stoic 
heart  has  personified  the  all-permeating  power  so 
that  it  may  have  some  One  to  adore.  This  hymn 
seems  as  a  tentative  bridge  across  the  abysmal  con- 
trast between  Aristotle's  conception  of  the  Un- 
moved Mover  sunk  in  self-contemplation,  and  the 
God  of  the  coming  time,  to  whom  men  should  pray 
with  new  devotion,  and  in  love  of  whoni  they  should 
win  their  adjustment  and  fulfil  their  lives.  Yet  one 
may  deem  that  there  was  no  such  great  chasm 
between  the  new-found  living  and  loving  God,  and 
the  God  of  Plato's  Laws, 

In  the  meanwhile,  if  the  tide  of  Stoic  devotion 
overflowed  its  logic,  there  was  its  sister  of  the  Gar- 
den, whose  gods  were  undisturbed  either  by  their 
own  beneficence  or  the  prayers  of  men.  Epicurus 
was  Zeno's  younger  contemporary.  Both  of  them 
were  intent  upon  living  in  accord  with  nature  (Kara 
4>v<nv)  or  reason;  but  while  Zeno  interpreted  this 
to  mean  Kar  apeTrjvy  or  virtuously,  Epicurus  said 
it  meant  Ka$*  r/hoin^Vy  or  pleasurably.  Epicurus 
deemed  that  he  had  found,  as  well  as  Zeno,  the  peace 
and  quiet  of  the  mind.  For  he  held  that  the  dis- 
sipation  of    pain    and    anxiety   insured   happiness. 


178  DELIVERANCE 

and  that  the  pleasures  of  the  mind  were  surer  and 
more  lasting  than  sense-joys.  As  for  knowledge, 
he  made  no  pretence  of  caring  for  more  of  it  than 
would  assure  the  votary  of  mental  ease  that  his 
calm  should  be  undisturbed.  Philosophy  was  but 
a  help  to  happiness.  In  order  to  provide  a  suffi- 
ciency of  conviction,  it  should  afford  a  test  of  truth. 
So  Epicurus  recognised  sensation  as  the  canon  of 
reality  for  man.  Beyond  that,  the  remembered  and 
multifariously  combined  images  of  previous  sense- 
perceptions  make  the  substance  of  thought;  what- 
ever thus  presents  itself  effectively  in  consciousness 
is  real.  For  a  philosophy  of  being,  he  took  the 
atomic  theory  of  Democritus,  with  its  universe 
constituted  by  the  flux  of  atoms,  and  the  soul  of 
man  made  of  the  very  finest.  The  gods,  part  of 
the  cosmos,  exist  in  bliss  and  never  interfere.  He 
saw  no  ground  for  any  other  conviction  than  that 
pleasure  and  pain  were  the  absolute  good  and  bad 
for  man.  His  temperament  dwelt  more  on  mental 
pleasures  than  on  bodily,  and  tended  to  set  chief 
store  upon  a  state  df  divine  calm,  utterly  free  from 
want.  To  this  end,  he  wisely  recognised  how  small 
and  trifling  were  the  body's  needs.  And  the  pleas- 
ure of  his  undisturbed  and  fearless  repose  was  as 
much  the  fruit  of  will  and  reason  as  the  Stoic  virtue. 
Virtue  also  was  desirable  because  pleasant;  while 
friendship,  compassion,  gentleness  were  among  the 
loveliest  joys  of  life.     Thus  for  himself  and  many 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHERS  179 

followers  he  won  freedom  and  peace  of  mind.  But 
his  creed  offered  no  bulwark  against  the  lower 
frailties  of  men  —  among  whom  at  least  it  fostered 
suavity. 

So  we  have  sketched  the  adjustment  with  life 
offered  by  the  love  of  knowledge  and  exercise  of 
reason  in  the  minds  of  Greek  philosophers.  Begin- 
ning in  the  contentment  springing  from  investiga- 
tion and  thought  upon  the  world's  origin  and  laws, 
this  adjustment  rose,  with  Plato  and  Aristotle,  to 
the  sublimest  satisfaction  of  consummate  intellectual 
appetition.  But  thereupon  it  narrowed  to  direct 
desire  for  peace  of  soul,  which  perhaps  is  won  more 
surely  through  employing  to  their  full  the  highest 
energies  of  the  mind. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Intermediaries 

T XZE  are  considering  the  striking  modes  in  which 
"  ^  great  men  have  adjusted  their  hopes  with 
what  seemed  to  them  the  possibihties  of  their  lives; 
and  if  we  have  to  touch  on  less  salient  ways  of 
adjustment,  we  may  treat  them  as  introductory  to 
those  which  appear  more  important  in  the  economy 
of  spiritual  progress.  In  some  way,  for  good  or 
ill,  each  period  of  history  prepares  for  that  which 
follows;  and  great  men  stand  on  the  shoulders  of 
the  great  before  them  —  only  they  need  sturdy 
shoulders  for  their  feet.  Heracleitos  and  his  oppo- 
site, Parmenides,  each  lent  a  shoulder  to  Plato, 
affording  him  a  vantage  ground  needful  for  his 
vision,  which  had  been  cleared  by  the  dialectic  of 
his  master  Socrates.  And  now  still  looking  from 
the  standpoint  of  adjustment,  we  may  proceed 
selectively  and  treat  all  that  follows  after  Plato  and 
Aristotle,  and  Zeno  and  Epicurus,  as  intermediate 
and  even  mediating  adjustments  making  for  the 
acceptance,  if  not  for  the  origin,  of  Chrisrianity. 
If  the  Hebrew  prophets  were  Christ's  truest  fore- 
runners, and  Jewish  formalism  his  fulcrum   of  re- 

i8o 


INTERMEDIARIES  l8l 

pulsion,  later  Hellenism,  moved  and  modified  by 
Eastern  influences,  formed  the  milieu  in  which  his 
Gospel  was  transplanted  after  his  death ;  a  milie  : 
which  both  contributed  to  the  conquering  faith  and 
shaped  it  to  the  limitations  of  this  milieu's  own 
receptiveness.  Accordingly,  one  may  truly  say 
that  from  the  second  century  before  Christ,  the 
course  of  Hellenic  thought  and  mood,  the  inter- 
mingling of  Eastern  religious  influences,  and  the 
consequent  changes  occurring  in  Roman  and  Greek 
paganism,  all  made  for  the  acceptance  of  that  su- 
preme adjustment  which  was  Christianity. 

And  indeed  adjustment  was  what  the  world  was 
seeking  —  adjustment,  nay,  rather,  assurance,  and 
indeed  salvation.  Even  intellectual  men  no  longer 
found  their  adjustment  in  rational  investigation,  in 
$€(jDpux ;  but  were  seeking  some  spiritual  stay  beyond 
their  reason.  Such  men,  as  well  as  the  less  intel- 
lectual and  more  emotional  millions,  now  looked  to 
the  assurances  of  religion,  in  order  to  free  themselves 
from  anxiousness,  and  gain  salvation.  Moreover, 
commonly  having  found  their  own  opinions  insufii- 
cient  and  their  ancestral  beliefs  unsatisfying,  they 
were  catching  at  whatever  seemed  likely  to  afford 
assurance.  Men  were  stirred  to  a  new  religious 
receptiveness  and  were  stimulated  morally.  Under 
these  conditions,  the  sharp  edges  of  opinion  were 
relaxed,  and  opposing  systems  borrowed  from  each 
other.  \  Cults   travelled   from   the   Eastern   to  the 


l82  DELIVERANCE 

Western  boundaries  of  the  Empire,  gathering  new 
elements  along  the  way,  and  themselves  gathered 
in  as  new  elements  of  old  beliefs.  Heterogeneous 
religions  formed  fruitful  unions,  while  a  none  too 
happy  give  and  take  seemed  to  pervade  the  world. 
^  All  this  represented  need;  and  the  most  real 
answerjaras-^hc  Gospel  of  Christ,  and  its^  preaching 
andministration.  \  Let  us  follow  for  a  little  these 
changes,  this  loss  of  intellectual  self-reliance,  this 
consequent  yielding  of  thought,  this  mingling  of 
currents  and  more  ready  acceptance  of  novel  opinions 
and  strange  beliefs.  To  start  from  a  concrete  ex- 
^ample  —  Stoicism.  It  began,  and  for  a  while  con- 
tinued, as  a  self-reliant  adjustment.  Then  it 
softened.  By  admitting  the  decent  comforts  of 
life  as  desirable,  it  relaxed  the  strictness  of  its  main 
ethical  principle,  that  the  virtuous  action  of  a  ration- 
ally self-directing  will  is  man's  only  good.  It  also 
humanised  its  philosophic  theology  by  recognising 
the  people's  very  human  gods.  Since  the  world 
was  full  of  divine  force,  why  not  accept  these  gods 
as  its  personifications  ?  And  why  not  also  per- 
tinently accept  the  Oracles  and  divination  and 
astrology  ^  Symbolism,  allegory,  and  plastic  ety- 
mologies for  the  divine  names,  made  ready  helps 
to  this  desired  end  —  the  stoical  intelligence  thus 
devising  the  means  and  method  of  believing  in 
accordance  with  prevailing  human  needs.  Such 
arguments  were  applicable,  when  there  was  call. 


INTERMEDIARIES  1 83 

to  Egypt's  gods    and  Syria's,  as  well  as  those  of 
Greece. 

The  Syrian-born  Greek,  Poseidonius  (cir.  135  to 
cir.  51  B.C.),  pupil  of  the  Rhodian  Panaetius,  em- 
bodied the  change  coming  over  Stoicism.  After 
his  master's  death,  he  left  Rhodes,  his  adoptive 
home,  and  travelled  far,  visiting  Egypt,  Nubia, 
Spain,  Gaul,  and  Italy.  In  all  these  countries,  he 
studied  and  investigated,  and  also  saw  his  great 
contemporaries,  meeting  Marius  (!)  in  Rome,  and 
later  having  Cicero  for  an  auditor  at  Rhodes.  In 
the  universality  of  his  knowledge  he  seemed  a 
child  of  Aristotle.  None  the  less  was  he  a  child  of 
Plato,  of  the  aged  Plato  so  very  absorbent  of  Py- 
thagoreanism.  He  was  a  man  of  religious  feeling 
and  catholic  tolerance,  even  of  catholic  receptivity ; 
and  was  much  given  to  those  direct  and  unreason- 
ing modes  of  realising  the  divine,  and  thereby  gain- 
ing life,  which  are  called  mystic.  For  his  philoso- 
phy and  working  religion,  he  mustered  the  resources 
of  astronomy,  geography,  history,  astrology,  demon- 
ology,  divination,  everything  that  might  enlarge 
the  intellect  and  assure  the  mood  of  man.  His 
knowledge  was  broad,  his  reasoning  loose,  and  his 
constructive  faculties  were  equal  to  the  demands 
of  his  ethical  and  religious  enthusiasms.  A  great 
and  typical  figure,  he  was  the  protagonist  of  the 
spiritual  revolution  taking  place  throughout  the 
world  of  Hellenic  thought,  and  was  representative 


1 84  DELIVERANCE 

of  the  tendencies  afterwards  to  culmkiate  in  Neo- 
platonism.i  x  ^,  sl.  r^M>^  d^TV*^ 
/^^^  have  now  to  do  with  the  onental  religions 
which  seerrPtO  project  themselves  into  the  Hellenic 
and  also  the  Latin  world.  They  represent  ways  of 
thinking  and  feelint —  religious  adjustments  —  ac- 
cepted in  Asia  Mimir,  Syria,  and  Egypt,  lands  tinged 
with  HellenisrnJJ/ We  have  then  to  consider  the 
Hellenism  penetrating  the  East,  but  whose  home 
was  in  the  Greek  cities  and  the  Greek  lands,  a  Hel- 
lenism which  had  become  as  productive,  or  recep- 
tive, of  religions  as  it  was  of  systems  of  philosophic 
adjustment.  All  these  adjustments,  of  oriental  cult 
and  Greek  orientalised  philosophy,  will  be  seen, 
through  a  congeniality  in  need  and  mood  and  prin- 
ciples, to  prepare  men's  minds  for  the  Christian 
deHverance. 

There  had  always  been  some  exchange  of  blows, 
and  wares,  and  ideas  between  the  Greeks  and  the 
non-Hellenic  Mediterranean  civilisations.  But,  of 
course,  with  the  opportunities  and  exigencies  arising 
through  Alexander's  conquest,  Hellenic  energy  cast 
itself  with  a  new  power  upon  Asia  Minor  and  Persia 
and  Syria  and  Egypt.  Under  Alexander's  succes- 
sors, and  finally  under  the  Romans,  political  and 
social  conditions  never  ceased  to  further  an  inter- 

1  On  Poseidonius,  see  Christ-Schmid,  Ges.  der  Griech.  Lit.y  5th 
Ed.  II,  pp.  268  sqq.y  and  compare  P.  Wendland,  Hellenistisch- 
Romisch  Kultur,  2d  Ed.,  pp.  134  sqq. 


INTERMEDIARIES  1 85 

change  of  ideas,  and  expose  Greek  and  Syrian  and 
Egyptian  to  the  influence  of  each  other's  moods  and 
though4;s.  Lest  one  should  be  surprised  at  the 
effect  of  the  East  upon  Hellenism,  and  then  upon  the 
Roman  West,  one  should  remember  that,  at  least 
in  Roman  times,  Syria  and  Egypt  surpassed  Greece 
and  Italy  in  fertility  and  wealth  and  civilization. 

Wh atever  came  from  the  East  was  in  answer  to 
the  cravmgs  or  susceptibilities  of  the  West  —  of 
^e  (ireek  and  Roman  yorld.  In  the  third  and 
second  centuries  before  Cnrist,  there  was  still  a  vast 
amount  of  science  and  .Erudition  at  Alexandria  and 
other  centres  of  Hellenic  culture.  And,  in  Italy, 
Rome  was  at  the  height  of  her  republican  energy. 
Nevertheless,  undei"  the  strain  of  the  last  dragging 
years  of  the  second  Punic  war,  the  Senate  (b.c.  205) 
decreed  the  honoured  reception  of  Cybele,  the 
Phrygian  Great  Mother,  —  which  was  as  if  a  dour 
Presbyterian  synod  in  our  own  time  should  make  a 
place  for  Mother  Eddy  and  her  Christian  Science  in 
the  Westminster  catechism.^  Likewise j  from  the 
close  of  the  second  century,  the  wide-spread  and  so 
largely  expatriated  Hellenic  peoples  were  yielding 
tb  the  religious  impulse  which  was  supplanting  their 
self-reliance.  A  widely  pertinent  illustration  majr 
be  given  of  this  change  of  mood.  As  the  satisfying 
power  of  reason  weakened,  the  goddess  Tyche  ^  — 
Chance,  blind  Fortune  —  threatened  the  supremacy 
*  Cf.  Rohde,  Der  griechische  Roman,  pp.  276-282. 


1 86  DELIVERANCE 

of  the  divine  universal  law  in  the  world's  affairs. 
She  was  not  reasonable;  nor  could  the  rational 
human  will  find  satisfaction  in  acquiescing  in  blind 
happenings  toward  which  an  attitude  of  voluntary 
obedience  was  absurd.  And  this  Tyche-Fortune  was 
worse  than  blind;  she  seemed  malignant.  At  all 
events,  with  the  extension  of  this  wilful  Power,  the 
conception  of  Evil  developed  as  an  independent 
principle  hostile  to  the  Good  —  a  conception  foreign 
to  classical  Greek  thought. 

Inasmuch  as  the  human  will  could  not  render 
obedie|(ce  either  to  Tyche  or  to  the  principle  of 
Evilmnen  were  spurred  to  seek  protection  against 
^  tKese  irresponsible  or  malignant  foes  to  human 
pea^fij  and  so,  reason  having  failed  them,  they 
turned  to  religion  with  a  new  appeal,  and  sought  to 
link  it  with  such  philosophy  as  they  still  might 
cherish.  Greek  religion,  whatever  else  it  was>  l^ad 
always  been  a  means  of  adjustment,  a  medium^ of 
aid  between  humanity  and  the  divitieV^This  chief 
function  of  religion  entered  and  formed  a  strain  in 
Greek  philosophy,  passing  betimes  from  the  Orphic 
mysteries  to  the  system  of  Pythagoras,  and  then  on 
into  the  thought  or  mood  of  Plato.  It  became 
negation  in  Epicureanism,  since  in  that  system  man 
needed  only  to  assure  himself  of  the  indifference  of 
the  gods.  In  Stoicism  it  was  positive,  earnest, 
austere.  Even  the  Scepticism  of  the  later  Academy 
cast  sheep's  eyes  on  it. 


INTERMEDIARIES  1 87 

Outside  of  such  self-respecting  and  unorientalised 
systems,  the  endeavour  of  the  man,  thinker  or 
votary,  to  adjust  himself  with  the  divine  and  gain 
its  support  was  more  unrestrained.  It  was  driven 
by  the  desire  for  unendangered  happiness,  the 
yearning  for  salvation.  But  as  the  Roman  religion, 
in  t[ie  strain  of  the  Punic  wars,  had  failed  to  satisfy, 
sfl^enerally  Hellenic  men  and  women  were  looking 
tor  fuller  satisfaction  and  more  responsive  aid  than 
their  ancestral  worship  afforded.  The  oriental 
cults  gave  the  emotional  satisfaction  so  widely 
craved.  They  appealed  to  the  senses  and  the 
sentiments,  and  offered  their  elaborate  symbolism 
to  beguile  the  minds  of  the  intelligent.  They  might 
demand  strenuous  purification  of  their  votaries,  for 
which  they  prescribed  the  method.  They  also 
brought  the  promise  of  immortality.  Wherever 
accepted,  at  first  casually  or  by  a  few,  they  worked 
upon  the  tempers  of  their  votaries,  and  their  dif- 
fusion was  facilitated  through  this  inclining  of  men's 
minds.  So  the  gods  and  goddesses,  and  their  cults, 
seemed  to  gain  in  power  and  vogue  within  the 
Eastern  lands,  where  they  drew  adherents  from 
among  the  Greek  strains  of  population,  as  at  Antioch 
or  Alexandria/^  Then  they  advanced  beyond  those 
borders  to  invade  the  Greek  and  Latin  West.  From 
Phrygia  came  the  Great  Mother,  Cybele  of  many 
forms  and  names ;  Attis  with  her,  and  his  orgiastic 
rites  of  mutilation,  death,  and  resurrection;  then 


1 88  DELIVERANCE 

from  Egypt,  Isis,  Osiris,  Serapis;  then  many  gods 
from  Syria,  tending  to  transmute  themsel^s  to 
solar  manifestations  of  universal  godhead^  lastly 
and  most  potently  out  of  Persia,  Mithr:^ne  mili- 
tant, to  be  recognized  by  Diocletian  as  protector 
of  the  Empire  ^ ;  and  behind  or  through  them  all, 
astrology  and  magic,  veritable  faiths  that  alluringly 
taught  a  divine  astral  fatalism  with  ways  of  pro- 
pitiating its  decrees. 

The  acceptance  of  these  cults  by  Greeks  and 
Romans  was  not  a  matter  of  haphazard  chance, 
although  the  motley  religious  aspect  of  the  later 
pagan  Empire  might  lead  one  to  think  so.  It  was 
affected  by  their  suitability.  For  example,  the 
Greeks  of  Alexandria,  and  other  Greeks  or  Romans 
following  suit,  adopted  only  those  Egyptian  cults 
(of  the  Osirian  circle)  which  had  become  half- 
Hellenised  through  Greek  influence;  they  were 
syncretistic,  exceptionally  plastic,  and  adaptable  to 
the  thoughts  and  moods  of  tfieir  new  votarieW  On 
the  other  hand,  Mithraism?  half-Persian  in  'origin, 
and  inspired  by  a  strenuous  dualism,  never  touched 
the  Greeks.  Essentially  a  soldier's  faith,  and 
adapted  to  militant  imperial  needs,  it  passed  directly 
to  the  Latin  world,  which  it  subdued  with  power. 
All  these  faiths  were  offered  to  their  Greek  and 

*  See  generally,  Cumont,  Les  Religions  orientates  dans  le  Pagan- 
isme  Tomain  (1905).  There  is  an  English  translation  and  a 
second  edition. 


INTERMEDIARIES  189 

Latin  converts  under  the  guise  of  "mysteries" 
accessible  only  to  the  duly  instructed  and  initiated, 
a  mode  of  religious  propagation  familiar  to  Greeks 
and  Romans/  Their  object  was  union  with  the  god, 
attained  by  the  priest  in  ecstasy,  and  revealed  to 
the  votaries.  These  "mysteries"  were  secret,  as  the 
name  implies;  they  brought  intuition,  vision,  even 
fruition  of  the  divine.  In  the  initiated,  there  took 
place  an  ecstatic  passing  away  of  self,  and  a  rebirth 
through  which  the  virtues  of  the  god  were  acquired 
—  his  spirit,  his  power,  his  immortality.  /  But 
Osiris,  Attis,  or  Adonis,  with  whom  the  devotee  was 
united,  had  been  men,  had  suffered  death,  and  had 
risen  as  gods.  Through  their  mysteries,  what  they 
had  undergone  is  not  merely  learned  or  seen  by  the 
votary,  but  is  veritably  experienced  and  made  his 
own;  he  .is,  reborn  and  metamorphosed  into  the  god.J 
So  these  religions  provided  scope  for  religious 
passion,  and  suggested  measureless  means,  both 
ascetic  and  voluptuous,  for  satisfying  it.  They 
were  direct  and  personal  in  their  power  of  assur- 
ance, requiring  no  intervention  of  state  function- 
aries or  promptings  of  state  interests,  of  which  they 
might  indeed  be  careless.  They  tended  to  regroup 
society  according  to  religious  affinities  and  ties; 
no  more  Greeks  or  Romans,  bond  or  free,  but  all 
equal  in  the  mysteries  of  the  Great  Mother,  of 
Serapis  or  Isis.  They  also  brought  sure  means  of 
purification,   and   promised   a   happy  immortalityJ^A^-"^ 


190  DELIVERANCE 

So  they  worked  a  change  in  Greek,  and  more 
markedly  (because  of  its  deeply  contrasting  qualities) 
in  Latin  paganism,  took  the  backbone  from  the 
latter,  broke  its  rigidity  of  temper,  rendered  it 
fluid,  yielding,  open  to  any  suggestion  or  assurance 
of  that  salvation  which  men  were  craving.  And  in 
this  religious  flux,  with  its  loose  assimilation  of  god 
and  god,  goddess  and  goddess,  and  their  manifes- 
tations concrete  or  symbolical,  the  more  lofty- 
minded  votary  could  readily  think  of  one  god  su- 
preme and  universal,  operative  or  manifested  in 
many  divine  forms;  he  could  also  purify  his  faith, 
and  form  a  synthesis  of  moral  precept  agreeing  with 
his  gifts.  Thus  he  might  harmonise  the  assurance 
gained   from   religion  with  the   adjustment  of  his 

moral  reason. - 

''Trom  the  oriental  religions,  we  turn  to  certain  feat- 
ures of  that  paganism  into  which  they  were  passing 
and  were  to  some  extent  transforming.  It  was  a 
Greco-Roman  paganism ;  primarily,  of  course,  Greek 
in  thought,  with  deflections  combined  with  moral 
stiffening  due  to  the  Roman  temperament.  Indeed, 
for  our  present  purpose,  the  tale  begins  with  those 
temperamental  modifications  of  Hellenic  philosophies, 
which  were  worked  out  by  Hellenically  educated 
Romans  who  retained  the  strength  of  their  Roman 
natures.  It  leads  on  through  later  phases  of  a  pagan- 
ism wherein  Roman  qualities  are  scarcely  distinguish- 
able in  the  Hellenic-oriental  blend,  out  of  which  will 


INTERMEDIARIES  19I 

then  be  seen  to  issue  that  last  great  pagan  philo- 
sophic-reHgious  adjustment  of  man  to  the  god  within 
him  and  without,  which  we  call  Neoplatonism. 

Let  us  notice  certain  Roman  very  personal  re- 
adjustments of  Hellenic  attitudes  toward  life. 
Looking  to  the  days  of  the  Republic,  we  are  im- 
pressed by  the  almost  portentous  figure  of  Lucretius, 
—  a  great  talent,  an  austere  and  powerful  tempera- 
ment. Who  does  not  at  least  know  of  his  poem 
De  natura  rerum,  in  which  he  invoked  Lady  Venus 
and  hailed  pleasure  as  Life's  Leader  —  "  Dux  vitae 
dia  voluptas."  But  the  poem  was  written  to  release 
himself  and  other  mortals  from  the  anxieties  and 
ills  that  men  had  made  for  themselves  out  of 
their  vain  fear  of  the  gods.  Relief  from  fear,  reliance 
on  reason,  and  acquiescence  in  the  knowledge  of 
the  nature  of  things,  which  reason  had  won,  made 
the  adjustment  of  this  man,  whose  hatred  of 
religion,  uniting  with  Roman  austerity,  chose  to 
reset  the  Stoic  temper  and  ethical  ideal  in  the 
Epicurean  scheme  of  physics  and  theology. 

As  of  course,  in  the  great  days  of  the  Republic, 
the  individual  Roman  citizen,  somewhat  inarticu- 
lately and  unconsciously,  had  merged  himself  in  the 
fortunes  of  his  country.  Largely  speaking,  that  was 
his  devotion,  and  that  was  his  adjustment;  his  for- 
tunes stood  with  hers;  and  he  felt  his  own  Hfe 
carried  on  in  the  lives  of  his  children,  themselves 
again  making  part  of  the  all-enveloping  respublica. 


192  DELIVERANCE 

Both  he  and  the  Republic  were  scrupulous  in  their 
religious  observances,  that  they  might  not  err  and 
lose  the  favour  of  the  gods.  In  all  of  this,  we  may 
think  the  Romans  self-taught,  instructed  by  their 
temper  and  their  exigencies ;  yet  any  part  of  this 
Roman  adjustment  might  have  been  learned  from 
Sparta,  or  from  the  great  days  of  Athens. 

Likewise  one  sees  that  the  Ideal  Vergilian  adjust- 
ment is  the  Augustan  or  imperial.  The  great 
pagan  heart  of  the  supreme  Roman  poet  knew  the 
sorrow  entailed  by  endeavour,  and  felt  the  pathos 
of  mortal  lives.  This  depth  of  feeling,  this  realisa- 
tion of  the  sacrifice  required,  gives  truth  and  power 
to  the  lesson  of  the  iEneid,  which  teaches  fulfilment 
of  duty,  yea,  of  destiny,  and  in  obedience  to  God. 
The  energy  of  a  great  epoch  was  needed  to  attain 
this  imperial  adjustment,  valid  for  the  Empire,  and 
perhaps  ideally  vahd  for  its  citizens  if  only  they 
would  be  staunch.  In  fact.  It  was  real  and  satis- 
fying for  but  few  —  perhaps  it  was  too  politically 
inspired.  An  adjustment  coming  closer  to  the 
individual  was  needed  even  by  noble  natures. 

Such  a  one  was  Horace,  in  whose  urbanity  were 
mingled  the  finest  flavours  of  Epicureanism  and 
Stoicism.  Kindness,  knowledge  of  men,  tolerance 
of  human  faults,  fondness  for  pleasure,  consciousness 
of  Its  insufficiency,  self-control  within  his  limita- 
tions, all  contributed  to  the  well-being  of  this  ad- 
mirably trimmed  and  balanced  nature.     He  leaned 


INTERMEDIARIES  193 

toward  Epicureanism  while  life's  pleasures  ran  in 
their  early  grooves ;  but  the  thoughtfulness  of  years 
and  the  pathos  of  mortality  drew  him  —  inter- 
mittently perhaps  —  toward  a  more  stable  satis- 
faction. He  began  to  praise  virtue,  the  sterling 
Vergilian  virtues  of  old  Rome.  The  thought  of 
them  gave  him  strength.  And  while  he  still  felt 
that  the  contented  mind,  the  aequum  animum,  must 
rest  upon  itself,  he  looked  more  constantly  to  God 
to  support  and  enrich  his  life  —  for  which  he  would 
be  grateful : 

Tu  quamcumque  deus  tibi  fortunaverit  horam 
Grata  sume  manu,  neu  dulcia  differ  in  annum. 

Perhaps  he  thought  it  best  to  seize  the  sunny 
day  —  carpe  diem  !  —  even  within  the  providence  of 
God  I 

Three  men  lived  under  the  Empire,  belonging  to 
three  generations,  in  whom  Stoicism  is  clothed  and 
decent,  not  given  to  religious  orgies,  and  yet  is 
moving  with  the  tendencies  of  the  time  toward  the 
expression  of  a  religious  ethics  corresponding  at 
many  points  with  the  ethics  of  patristic  Christianity. 
Their  adjustment  with  life  still  rested  in  reason  and 
the  resolutely  accordant  will;  and  yet  their  still 
rational  adjustment  was  becoming  prayerful,  seek- 
ing some  assurance  from  God.  No  need  to  say  that 
these  men  were  Seneca,  Epictetus,  and  Marcus 
Aurelius. 


194  DELIVERANCE 

The  finished  Stoical  aphorisms  of  the  first  do  not 
inspire  complete  confidence.  One  doubts  whether 
the  frail  disposition  of  man  could  live  up  to  any- 
thing so  perfect.  A  mind  despising  the  accidents 
of  fortune,  and  happy  in  virtue,  is  the  summum 
bonum,  and  constitutes  the  human  adjustment  with 
Seneca.  Accordingly,  no  evil  can  come  to  a  good 
man;  misfortune  is  his  opportunity, —  and  many 
more  like  cheering  utterances.  Yet  Seneca  made 
the  conventional  Stoical  concessions  to  the  weakness 
of  human  nature  —  one  prefers  to  have  joys  to 
moderate,  rather  than  griefs  to  repress.  The  sage 
is  not  a  stone:  how  could  virtue  be  virtue  unless 
it  felt  its  trials.  He  also  recognised  social  duties, 
which  had  long  been  part  of  virtue.  And  he  was 
religious :  in  regno  nati  sumus ;  deo  parere  libertas 
est,  —  Obedience  to  God,  that  is  our  liberty. 
Seneca's  god  is  the  perfect  and  stern  Stoic  sage, 
having  no  weaknesses,  and  recognising  none  !  There 
is  friendship,  as  there  is  likeness,  between  God  and 
good  men,  for  whom  he  reserves  his  disciplinary 
benevolence,  while  he  lets  the  wicked  wanton  in 
their  lusts.  He  tries  the  good  man  with  adversity, 
and  delights  to  watch  the  struggle.  Neither  God, 
nor  the  Stoic  sage,  sorrows  over  human  misfortune ; 
but  views  all  life  through  the  eyes  of  the  Stoic 
reason. 

Epictetus  was  not  so  rich  as  Seneca,  and  his  life 
rings  truer  to  his  principles.     He  thinks  more  con- 


INTERMEDIARIES  195 

stantly  of  God;  philosophy  has  become  religion 
with  him.  He  can  be  thankful  to  God  not  only  for 
the  vine  and  wheat,  but  for  the  virtuous  mind, 
which  is  indeed  a  part  of  God,  who  has  set  the  law 
that  man's  good  shall  lie  in  his  rational  will,  in- 
vincible from  without,  even  by  God.  But  let  man 
reflect  always  on  God  and  the  divine  providence  in 
the  world;  let  him  attempt  nothing  without  God. 
The  true  philosopher  will  "know  that  he  is  sent  a 
messenger  from  Zeus  to  men  about  good  and  bad 
things,  to  show  them  that  they  have  wandered  and 
are  seeking  the  substance  of  good  and  evil  where  it 
is  not."  1 

Born  a  slave  and  made  a  freedman,  Epictetus  was 
a  contented  man,  his  happiness  established  in  his 
reason  and  his  will,  and  warmed  with  entire  trust  in 
God.  But  Marcus  was  a  different  kind  of  pagan 
saint.  He  was  burdened  with  the  rule  of  an  Empire, 
a  thankless,  hopeless  task  filling  him  with  intellectual 
melancholy.  His  philosophy,  his  religion,  was  essen- 
tially the  same  as  that  of  Epictetus.  His  palace 
was  to  him  as  the  freedman's  cottage ;  for  he  needed 
as  few  things  as  Epictetus.  Indeed  he  might  have 
been  happier  in  a  lowly  station,  which  would  have 
left  him  untried  and  undisciplined  by  such  harassing 
responsibilities.  Marcus  is  disposed  to  pray  to  the 
gods  even  for  things  within  his  own  power,  for 
freedom  from  anxiety  and  fear  and  grief,  as  well  as 
^  Dis.  Ill,  22.     Long's  translation. 


196  DELIVERANCE 

from  vain  desires.  Though  strong  in  his  reason  and 
Stoic  virtue,  he  felt  the  need  of  aid. 

"Follow God  and  love  mankind,"  says  Marcus,  for 
love  of  one's  neighbour  is  a  property  of  the  rational 
soul,  conscious  of  its  affinity  to  other  souls  and  God. 
Satisfaction  lies  in  always  acting  thus  —  obediently 
and  in  accordance  with  right  reason.  All  is  prepared 
from  eternity  —  the  thread  of  thy  being,  along 
with  other  things  !  The  Universe  loves  whatever 
is  to  be ;  and  as  it  loves,  so  love  I.  Yet  in  Marcus 
this  philosophic  satisfaction  might  become  mere 
resignation.  He  was  a  little  weary  of  the  universe 
he  loved.  He  feared  his  imagination,  was  distrustful 
of  his  heart,  or  at  least  felt  the  need  to  steel  it 
through  meditation  on  mortality  as  an  incident  in 
the  universal  necessity  of  dissolution.  If  his  soul 
was  not  embittered,  still  the  whole  whirl  and  flux 
of  life  seemed  but  a  pointless  warfare,  from  which, 
when  released,  he  would  depart  satisfied. 

Stoicism  is  tired  in  Marcus;  it  no  longer  cheers. 
It  has  depressed  the  human  heart;  it  has  shut  its 
eyes  too  resolutely  against  feelings  which  it  could  not 
entertain,  against  hopes  which  it  could  not  justify. 
Stoicism  could  not  really  approve  of  love,  which  is 
longing  and  anxiety  and  rapture,  and  not  unmoved 
benevolence.  In  fine,  the  Stoic  God  could  not  love, 
the  Stoic  physics  admitted  no  immortality.  The 
age  demanded  both,  and  Stoicism  became  a  dis- 
carded creed. 


INTERMEDIARIES  1 97 

The  treatises  of  Seneca  and  the  Discourses  of 
Epictetus  survive  as  illustrious  examples  of  the 
philosophic  propaganda  and  ethical  exhortation 
current  in  the  first  and  second  centuries  of  what  was 
scarcely  yet  the  Christian  era.  Many  austere 
figures  moved  through  the  Empire,  endeavouring 
to  recall  men  from  their  folly  to  a  truer  realisation 
of  their  nature,  and  instructing  them  how  they  might 
be  saved  from  the  evil  of  the  world.  This  preaching 
drew  from  the  moral  stores  of  the  Hellenistic  philos- 
ophies, which  were  becoming  religious  faiths.  It 
sought  to  cast  men  on  their  inner  selves,  upon  their 
spiritual  lives,  and  point  out  how  their  true  and 
enduring  natures  might  be  rescued  and  saved.  It 
taught  higher  thoughts  of  God,  and  the  yielding 
oneself  to  the  divine  will  as  the  truest  sacrifice. 
In  life  as  well  as  doctrine,  these  men  had  much  in 
common  with  the  life  and  message  of  those  who  were 
preaching  Christianity.  Yet  the  fullest  approxima- 
tion to  contemporary  Christianity,  and  the  most 
efficient  influence  upon  human  moods  making  for 
its  acceptance,  was  that  final  Hellenistic  system  of 
philosophy  and  religion,  called  Neoplatonism, 
which  also  offered  men  the  adjustment,  or  perhaps 
deliverance,  nearest  to  the  salvation  offered  by  the 
Christian  faith. 

There  were  apparently  abysms  of  difference  be- 
tween Stoicism  and  Neoplatonism.  Yet  the  philo- 
sophic and  pietistic  eclecticism  of  the  latter  had  its 


198  DELIVERANCE 

antecedent  in  the  eclectically  expanded  Stoicism  of 
Poseidonius;  though,  to  be  sure,  the  system  of 
which  he  was  the  nominal  adherent  seems  again  to 
contract  its  phylacteries  in  Seneca  and  Marcus. 
That  may  be  referred,  however,  to  their  personal 
tempers,  rather  than  to  any  tendency  of  their  time. 
/Neoplatonism  was  the  creature  of  mood  and 
metaphysics.  It  united  metaphysics  and  ethics 
with  religious  ecstasy.  Plotinus,  who  died  in  the 
year  270  a.d.,  was  its  constructor.  He  was  a  meta- 
physical genius  and  also  a  man  so  austere  in  spirit 
that  it  cost  him  little  effort  to  ignore  the  body's 
needs.  He  drew  upon  the  previous  great  systems  of 
Greek  thought,  —  upon  Aristotle,  upon  Stoicism, 
above  all  upon  Plato.  But  while  he  was  a  master- 
builder  with  their  reasonings,  he  had  no  aptitude 
for  physical  science.  Hence  his  philosophy  royally 
neglected  the  accumulated  scientific  knowledge  of 
the  past,  and  thus  fell  in  with  the  tendencies  of  its 
time.  In  part,  Plotinus's  system  was  a  last  result  of 
Plato's  idealism.  But  with  this  metaphysical  Egyp- 
tian, far  more  fatuously  than  with  the  great  Athenian 
master  of  knowledge  as  well  as  dialectic,  the  aspira- 
tions of  the  soul  became  the  criterion,  and  the  sum, 
of  human  knowledge. 

To  attain  its  ends,  Neoplatonism  made  use  of 
means  which  would  have  been  abominations  to  the 
purer  Greek  philosophies.  It  wantoned  in  allegory, 
and  in  that  way  explained  and  justified  any  foolish- 


INTERMEDIARIES  1 99 

ness  to  which  its  followers  felt  drawn.  From  the 
beginning  it  was  touched  with  the  Orient;  and  then 
quickly  embraced  those  motley  cults  and  super- 
stitions in  which  the  Orient  had  the  greater  part. 
Even  Plotinus  was  driven  by  a  yearning  to  be  saved 
from  the  confusion  of  mortal  life.  His  aim  was 
neither  knowledge  nor  the  satisfaction  springing 
from  the  ultimate  consideration  of  facts  and  values, 
which  is  philosophy.  His  mind  was  filled  with  the 
desire  of  ecstatic  spiritual  well-being,  which  his 
reason  could  neither  attain  nor  justify.  The  goal  he 
looked  to  was  supra-rational  ecstatic  union  with  the 
Absolute  One. 

To  be  sure,  this  goal  was  led  up  to  through  the 
discipline  of  ethics  and  long  lines  of  metaphysical 
prolegomena,  —  with  Plotinus.  His  disciple  Por- 
phyry still  liked  to  reason,  and  had  that  faculty; 
but  his  temper  was  distraught,  and  religious  anxious- 
ness  drove  him  to  questionable  spiritual  drugs. 
He  was  incredulous  as  to  demons  —  how  can  they 
harm  a  pure  soul  ?  But  his  imagination,  Hke  the 
age  he  lived  in,  swarmed  with  them.  He  talks  of 
them  continually,  as  did  Tertullian,  and  the  great 
Origen,  and  that  doughty  pagan,  Celsus,  against 
whom  Origen  wrote.  The  age  was  obsessed  with 
demons.  It  were  best  to  take  them  without  qualms 
and  cheerfully,  as  Plutarch  had  done,  and  as  lambli- 
cus,  the  Neoplatonic  hierophant  who  followed 
Porphyry,   was   to   do.      With   him   Neoplatonism 


200  DELIVERANCE 

casts  ofF  restraint,  flings  wide  its  arms  to  every 
superstition,  and  endeavours  on  principle  to 
justify  belief  in  the  incredible  and  reliance  upon 
the  absurd  —  upon  theurgy  with  all  its  magic  words 
and  acts.  Thenceforth  it  kept  open  house  for  all 
phases  of  popular  paganism.  Yet  its  more  intellec- 
tual adherents  might  still  attach  themselves  to  its 
metaphysics,  its  system  of  emanation  of  life  and 
being  from  the  One  to  the  Nous,  and  from  the 
Nous  to  the  World-soul  and  the  souls  of  men. 

In  its  strenuous  and  more  consistent  phases,  Neo- 
platonism  was  ascetic.  For,  pushing  on  along  the 
dualistic  currents  of  the  time,  it  had  come  to  dis- 
credit matter  for  its  lack  of  metaphysical  reality, 
and  hate  it  for  its  defilements  of  the  flesh-entangled 
soul,  the  lures  with  which  it  stopped  the  soul's 
progress  toward  ecstatic  union  with  the  All-spirit, 
the  All-real,  the  All-One. 

Obviously,  even  with  its  metaphysical  inceptor, 
Neoplatonism,  rising  above  human  reason,  yearning 
for  salvation  from  material  unrealities,  looking 
toward  union  with  the  Ineff'able,  demanded  the 
immediate  support  of  that  toward  which  the  soul 
was  reaching  as  tjie  goal  of  bliss,  and  which  by  itself 
the  soul  could  not  attain.  The  Divine  draws  on 
the  ardent  philosopher  by  its  own  perfect  Being: 
it  awaits  the  upward  striving  soul.  But  how  when 
the  soul  is  blind  and  feeble  .?  Will  not  the  Divine 
in  some  way  meet  tjie  soul,  reveal  Itself,  and  hold 


INTERMEDIARIES  20I 

out  aid  ?  Can  It  not  be  induced  to  aid  ?  Are  there 
not  mediatorial  means  ?  The  soul  of  Plotinus  was 
strong  with  spiritual  impulse;  the  souls  of  others 
after  him  required  stimulus  and  aid  and  guidance. 
They  called  for  a  lowering  of  the  mediatorial  means, 
and  looked  for  plain  and  palpable  modes  of  revela- 
tion. Neoplatonism  became  whatever  its  votaries 
required.  It  took  what  they  wished  from  Egypt, 
accepted  the  Sun  and  planetary  worship  from  Syria ; 
it  filled  itself  out  with  divination  and  astrology. 
Accepting  the  ritual  and  method  of  the  Eastern 
mysteries,  it  developed  means  of  mediation,  educated 
a  priesthood  skilled  in  magic,  able  to  win  the  god's 
aid  and  reveal  his  will ;  able  likewise  to  defend  the 
votary  from  the  myriad  demons  which  beset  men 
everywhere,  benumbing,  frightening,  or  distracting 
the  worshipper,  even  thronging  the  temples,  and 
requiring  dispersal  before  the  true  god  can  appear. 
Neoplatonism  represents  the  last  and  most  in- 
clusive blending  of  Hellenic-oriental  elements  in  a 
final  paganism,  a  final  pagan  religion,  having  its 
reason  and  unreason,  its  decencies  and  indecencies, 
suited  to  the  motley  multitude  of  its  votaries^^/ 

From  our  point  of  view  it  was  the  last  Hellenic 
adjustment  —  an  adjustment  quickly  overflowing 
reason,  seeking  assurance  and  salvation  from  with- 
out, becoming  a  religion.  Plotinus,  incredulous  of 
matter,  pressed  toward  ecstasy  and  union  with  the 
One,  through  his  own  reason  and  his  own  spiritual 


202  DELIVERANCE 

energy.  That  was  his  adjustment,  —  an  adjustment 
needing  little  assurance  beyond  the  power  of  its 
impulse.  But  Porphyry,  his  disciple,  already  fearful, 
is  all  too  conscious  of  the  waverings  of  his  soul,  its 
hankerings  after  all  manner  of  indecorous  enchant- 
ments which  his  reason  could  not  quite  effectively 
contemn.  For  his  adjustment,  he  needed  magic 
nostrums  as  well  as  the  deeper  assurances  of  faith. 
And  after  Porphyry,  though  some  men  might  have 
rational  thoughts,  none  drew  back  from  whatever 
spiritual  comfort  might  be  suggested  by  fancy  or 
current  superstition.  For  ten  that  yearned  for 
union  with  the  One,  thousands  sought  the  stay  and 
strength,  the  protection,  power,  even  the  immortal 
nature,  of  whatever  god  into  whose  "mysteries" 
they  were  initiated. 

Contemporaries,  though  they  may  disavow  and 
anathematise  each  other,  have  nearly  everything 
in  common  except  perhaps  the  specific  points  on 
which  they  think  they  differ.  Gnostics,  Neo- 
platonists,  Manichaeans,  Arians,  Catholic  Christians 
of  the  third  and  fourth  centuries,  had  indefinitely 
more  in  common  than  we  can  have  with  any  of 
tjiem,  whatever  be  our  sympathies.  Yet  on  the 
other  hand,  the  fuller  our  knowledge  becomes  of 
the  manifold  likenesses  between  Christianity  and  all 
t;he  other  religions  swarming  in  those  centuries,  the 
more  surely  we  are  driven  to  the  recognition  of 
dynamic  qualities  in  Catholic  Christianity  by  which 


INTERMEDIARIES  203 

It  emerged  victorious  from  the  maze  of  contem- 
porary systems,  even  though  it  never  freed  itself 
from  the  current  views  and  superstitions  of  the  age 
which  accepted  and  partly  fashioned  it. 

One  may  safely  emphasise  the  likenesses  between 
Neoplatonism  and  Christianity,  in  practical  mo- 
rality, in  occasional  asceticism,  in  religious  anxious- 
ness  (especially  concerning  the  besetting  hosts  of 
devils),  in  the  conscious  need  of  saving  mediation, 
and  generally  in  credulity  and  receptive  mood.  The 
spiritual  needs  of  Neoplatonists  and  Christians  were 
similar,  though  the  two  religions  had  very  different 
means  of  satisfying  them. 

One  may  say  much  the  same  of  tjie  Gnostic 
systems,  a  group  of  religious  phenomena  taking 
their  rise  before  the  Christian  era,  but  afterwards 
acquiring  more  striking  features  and  enormous 
vogue.  Gnosticism  carried  a  mixture  of  oriental 
and  Hellenic  elements,  and  tended  to  become  a 
sort  of  bastard  Christianity.  It  was  by  no  means 
unrelated  to  Neoplatonism,  since  it  strove  to  intuit 
and  behold  its  god,  and  so  unite  with  him  and  gain 
his  strength;  it  even  sought  to  effect  such  union 
through  veritable  experience  of  the  divine,  the 
supernatural  or  supermaterial.  The  Gnostic  union 
with  the  Divine  might  take  place  in  passionate 
sense  modes.  Gnosticism  was  also  dualistic,  finding 
everywhere  the  action  of  good  and  evil.  Indeed  its 
various  systems  seem  almost  to  arise  out  of  this 


204  DELIVERANCE 

problem  of  the  origin  of  evil.  Of  course,  the  Gnostic 
religions  were  full  of  demons,  and  erudite  with  spells 
to  drive  them  from  the  soul  journeying  on  to  its 
salvation.  Salvation  was  its  aim ;  and  that  drew  it 
to  Christianity.  But  the  Gnostic  salvation  had 
been  a  weird  and  mystic  process  entwined  with  man's 
origin,  rather  than  conceived  as  springing  from  a 
definite  historical  event.  Gnosticism  would  adopt 
the  Christian  Saviour:  but  diverse  and  grotesque 
were  the  struggles  of  its  sects  to  make  the  Saviour 
into  an  element  of  their  belief;  for  no  Gnostic  sect 
could  accept  him  in  the  reality  of  his  manhood,  or 
admit  that  the  Saviour  died  upon  the  cross. 

The  struggle  of  Gnosticism  to  become  Christian,  or 
to  make  Christianity  Gnostic,  was  the  supreme  peril 
of  early  Christianity  wherein  it  was  in  danger  of  be- 
coming a  hybrid.  But  it  gained  strength  from  its 
resistance,  and  greater  definitude  of  creed ;  thereby,  at 
the  same  time,  proving  itself  a  living  thing,  an  or- 
ganic faith,  that  could  not  blend  with  another  system. 

So  Catholic  Christianity  became  itself  more  clearly 
through  this  miraculous  process  of  pulling  itself  out 
of  the  swirl  which  surrounded  and  almost  seemed  to 
have  cradled  it.  In  this  it  clung  to  its  adjustment,  of 
Christ,  and  in  Christ  and  the  Church;  and  this 
clinging  to  its  adjustment,  its  assurance,  its  salvation, 
was  at  the  same  time,  necessarily,  a  rejection  of  the 
similar  or  dissimilar  adjustments,  the  insufficient 
assurances  and  revelations,  the  vague  mediatorial 


INTERMEDIARIES  205 

means,  and  the  unreal,  the  fantastic,  the  unhuman 
and  undivine  salvations,  which  were  not  its  own. 

Arianism  and  Manichaeism  were  the  last  two 
systems,  so  Hke  and  yet  so  fatally  unHke  Catholic 
Christianity,  which  it  had  to  disclaim,  or  from 
which  it  had  to  free  itself.  The  former  was  a  Chris- 
tian heresy,  filled  in  its  time  with  the  possibilities 
of  all  kinds  of  dogmatic  idolatry  —  not  merely  the 
harmless  genial  worship  of  the  saints,  which  Catholic 
Christianity  held  to.  If  Gnosticism  had  impugned 
the  reality  of  Christ's  manhood,  Arianism  impugned 
the  reality  of  his  godhead.  But  Catholic  Chris- 
tianity was  to  cling  to  this  dual  reality  as  the  suffi- 
cient mediatorial  means  of  salvation. 

More  from  without,  and  yet  with  many  dangerous 
likenesses,  was  Manichaeism,  —  from  which  our 
final  example  of  deliverance,  Augustine,  will  be 
seen  to  drag  himself  with  pain.  It  was  a  drastic 
dualism,  sprung  mainly  from  Persian  Magianism, 
but  absorbing  also  Christian  matter,  and  making 
a  particularly  malignant  and  pessimistic  blend.  Nor 
was  this  tare  ever  rooted  out ;  for  as  the  rankest  of 
heresies  it  clung  to  the  skirts  of  Christianity  through 
the  Middle  Ages. 

Fingit  sibi  quisque  colendum,  mens  vaga  quod  suadet.* 

Setting  these  words  of  some  Latin  poet  as  the 
epitaph  of  these  oriental  pagan  systems,  we  shall 

*  From  Rohde,  Griechischer  Roman,  2d  Ed.,  p.  19. 


206  DELIVERANCE 

now  turn  to  Christianity,  whose  man-god  was  not 
fashioned  by  the  rambHng  mind.  In  that  there  was 
not  only  reality,  but  reality  manifold  if  not  inconsist- 
ent !  Whatever  appears  real  in  the  others,  is  some- 
how absorbed  in  Catholic  Christianity,  and  raised 
to  a  higher  power,  —  morals,  asceticism,  needs, 
and  the  means  of  their  satisfaction.  It  was  even  a 
yoking  of  opposites,  blind  faith  and  rational  en- 
lightenment, obedience  and  disobedience,  all  accord- 
ing to  the  spirit.  A  mighty  exercise  of  mind  begins 
within  the  Church,  in  which  these  opposites  work 
together  for  the  building  up  of  the  Christian  man, 
and  the  making  firm  of  the  Christian  adjustment, 
the  Christian  assurance,  the  Christian  salvation. 


CHAPTER  IX 

Jesus 

*  I  ^HE  prudent  mind  halts  before  the  mystery 
-■-  of  Jesus  Christ.  It  will  hesitate  to  attempt 
to  characterise  the  adjustment  with  life  and  God 
of  one  from  whom  proceeded  modes  of  deliverance 
for  mankind.  How  shall  one  conceive  of  the  personal 
assurance  of  salvation  in  him  who  soon  was  to  be  held 
the  salvation  of  the  world  .?  We  have  the  records, 
and  with  whatever  differences  of  opinion  we  may 
regard  them,  we  should  not  deliver  ourselves  over 
to  the  sweet  conceit  of  selecting  what  seems  probable, 
and  rejecting  what  does  not.  If  we  suspect  the 
records,  or  reject  them,  what  other  means  of  informa- 
tion have  we  touching  this  being,  human  or  divine, 
or  both,  as  to  whom  we  must  hold  some  opinion, 
seeing  that  he  was  at  least  the  fountain-head  of 
our  religion  ?  Recent  scholarship  has  gathered 
and  arranged  the  multifarious  array  of  contempo- 
rary resemblances  to  nearly  everything  in  primitive 
Christianity,  and  has  set  forth  the  moulding  and 
remoulding  influences  into  which  the  Gospel  of 
Christ  was  cast.  Nearly  every  element,  even  in 
that  first  Gospel  core,  seems  to  have  had  its  ahen 
counterpart.     But  even  then  these  alien  counter- 

207 


208  DELIVERANCE 

parts  were  jaded  phantasms ;  while  the  Gospel  was 
a  thing  of  human  and  divine  reality.  Its  life  made 
its  originality.  He  who  would  search  into  the  vital 
truth  of  it  needs  all  his  scholarship,  and  yet  must 
not  spend  himself  on  husks,  or  be  satisfied  with 
analogies  between  what  is  dead  and  what  is  living, 
between  the  vagaries  of  the  tired  imagination,  and 
principles  rooted  in  human,  if  not  divine,  verity. 

In  the  main,  we  must  keep  to  the  records,  proceed- 
ing exegetically,  and  not  building  too  much  from 
our  own  modern  minds,  or  our  conceptions  of  what 
must  have  been.  We  can  scarcely  expect  to  see 
into  the  inscrutable  adjustment  of  Jesus,  which 
rested  in  his  nature  and  his  relationship  to  God. 
In  the  oneness  of  this  adjustment,  there  is  duality. 
For  we  shall  find  no  adjustment  in  the  man  Jesus, 
unless  we  treat  him  as  the  Messiah  and  the  Son  of 
God  —  as  he  deemed  himself.  His  adjustment  can- 
not be  treated  as  that  of  a  simple  man,  for  in  the  rec- 
ords he  is  more  than  man.  It  is  inseverable  from 
his  more  than  human  function  as  the  Saviour  of 
men  :  it  forms  part  of  the  Gospel,  part  of  the  King- 
dom of  God,  which  is  the  salvation  of  mankind. 

One  will  also  recognise  the  originality  of  Jesus, 
both  in  his  adjustment  and  in  his  Gospel  to  men. 
He  had  antecedents,  and  he  moved  in  an  environ- 
ment from  which  he  drew  his  fund  of  incidental 
knowledge  or  ignorance  as  to  man  and  the  visible, 
even  the  invisible,  world.     Let  us  take  a  striking 


JESUS  209 

example :  the  men  of  Jesus'  time,  and  those  of  the 
following  centuries,  were  surrounded  by  demons; 
all  life  was  enveloped  with  them.  The  minds 
even  of  the  best,  Plutarch,  Celsus  as  well  as  Origen, 
all  the  Church  Fathers,  are  infested  with  them, 
and  are  disposed  to  gauge  the  efficacy  of  a  faith  by 
its  power  over  demons,  the  demons  of  pollution, 
the  demons  of  madness,  the  demons  of  disease. 
Jesus  also,  just  as  he  preaches  and  heals  the  sick,  so 
with  equal  potency  he  casts  out  demons;  he  gives 
his  apostles  authority  to  preach  and  cast  out  demons  : 
Krjpva-a-eLv  and  €K/3aAAetv  to,  Sat/AoVia  go  together  from 
the  beginning  of  his  ministry.  Thus  exorcism 
pervades  the  Gospel,  and  will  pervade  the  whole 
Church  through  the  following  centuries.  Yet  does 
it  really  penet;rate  to  the  life  of  Christ  and  the  Gospel 
of  Christ  ?  At  all  events  not  in  any  explanatory 
manner:  for  it  is  incidental  and  detachable,  and 
though  it  was  certainly  part  of  the  working  Gospel 
for  many  years,  we  know  that  Christ  and  his  Gospel 
were  not  the  fruit  of  these  opinions  of  the  time. 
Consideration  of  such  environing  or  antecedent 
beliefs  gives  but  a  partial  and  superficial  view  of 
him.  Not  by  these  ways  shall  we  penetrate  the 
nature  of  Christ,  and  enter  the  sphere  of  his  moving 
convictions,  which  constituted  his  adjustment,  his 
relationship  with  God. 

Now,  following  our  records,  and  perhaps  distrust- 
ful both  of  ourselves  and  them,  let  us  see  at  all 
p 


2IO  DELIVERANCE 

events  how  we  may  understand  the  adjustment 
wherein  Jesus  kept  his  Hfe  at  one,  with  peace  of 
mind,  and  spirit  free  to  do  its  perfect  work.  God 
was  his  father.  Strength,  confidence,  peace,  Hfe, 
in  fine,  came  from  him,  and  on  the  Son's  part  was 
energised  by  the  single  motive  of  doing  the  Father's 
will.  The  power  and  compass  of  this  motive  was 
the  will  of  God,  his  Father,  as  Jesus  realised  it  within 
himself  and  brought  the  inner  realisation  to  outer 
actuality  in  word  and  act.  His  dependence  was 
entire ;  his  faith  included  the  perfect  faith  of  a  man. 
His  conduct  represented  the  perfect  righteousness  of 
man,  fulfilling,  for  example,  those  unified  "Beati- 
tudes" of  the  "Sermon  on  the  Mount,"  as  well  as 
all  the  precepts  grouped  within  that  "Sermon's'* 
amplitude.  It  fulfilled  whatever  Jesus  demanded 
of  men. 

But  many  sayings  in  the  Gospels,  which  apply  to 
him  and  his  relationship  to  God,  and,  as  it  were, 
disclose  features  of  his  adjustment,  do  not  apply 
to  men.  One  may  pass  from  general  precepts 
binding  upon  all,  to  other  statements  which  illumine 
their  significance,  and  yet  relate  directly  to  Christ 
alone.  "Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with 
all  thy  heart  and  with  all  thy  soul  and  with  all  thy 
mind  —  and  thy  neighbour  as  thyself  "  :  these  two 
commands,  which  Jesus  more  clearly  than  the  ancient 
writers  knew  to  contain  the  purport  and  content 
of  the  Law,  he  lived  and  dwelt  in.     "  He  who  seeks 


JESUS  211 

to  save  his  life,  shall  lose  It,  and  he  who  loseth  his 
life  for  my  sake  shall  save  it" :  here  again  Jesus 
was  the  incarnate  fulfilment  of  his  own  words  to  men. 
We  turn  to  other  words  of  his  which  reflect  illumi- 
nation on  the  giving  up  of  life  for  the  Gospel's  sake, 
and  on  the  love  which  men  shall  have  for  God,  and 
yet  primarily  set  forth  a  relationship  between  the 
Son  and  Father  which  is  beyond  human  participa- 
tion :  "All  things  have  been  delivered  unto  me  of 
my  Father :  and  no  one  knoweth  the  Son  save  the 
Father ;  neither  doth  any  know  the  Father,  save  the 
Son,  and  he  to  whomsoever  the  Son  willeth  to  reveal 
him."  The  next  verses  continue:  "Come  unto  me 
all  ye  that  labour  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest.  Take  my  yoke  [i.e.  my  precepts] 
upon  you,  and  learn  of  me."  Jesus  points  to  himself 
as  the  end  and  goal,  just  as  he  speaks  of  the  Kingdom 
of  God  as  that  wherein  men  reach  the  relationship 
to  God  which  is  salvation.  His  love  was  the 
Father's  love,  and  his  life  did  the  Father's  work  of 
love  toward  men.  He  demanded  faith  in  himself, 
in  his  Christhood,  his  power  from  God  to  save. 
Consider  the  sequence  of  the  verses  in  the  eighth 
chapter  of  Mark:  "If  any  man  would  come  after 
me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his  cross,  and 
follow  me.  For  whosoever  would  save  his  life 
shall  lose  it ;  and  whosoever  shall  lose  his  life  for  my 
sake  and  the  Gospel's  shall  save  it.  For  what  doth 
it  profit  a  man,  to  gain  the  whole  world,  and  forfeit 


212  DELIVERANCE 

his  life  ?  For  what  should  a  man  give  in  exchange 
for  his  life  ?  For  whosoever  shall  be  ashamed  of 
me  and  of  my  words  in  this  adulterous  and  sinful 
generation,  the  Son  of  man  also  shall  be  ashamed  of 
him,  when  he  cometh  in  the  glory  of  his  Father 
with  the  holy  angels.  And  he  said  unto  them. 
Verily  I  say  unto  you,  there  be  some  here  of  them 
that  stand  by,  which  shall  in  no  wise  taste  of  death, 
till  they  see  the  Kingdom  of  God  come  with  power."  ^ 
Thus  Jesus  discloses  his  conception  of  himself. 
It  was  at  one  with  his  conviction  of  his  mission  to  men 
and  his  relationship  to  God.  "Verily  the  Son  of  man 
came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister  and 
to  give  his  life  a  ransom  for  many."  Often,  and  under 
varied  circumstances,  Jesus  tells  his  disciples  that 
he  shall  be  put  to  death  and,  on  the  third  day, 
rise  again.  There  is  no  statement  coming  from  him 
so  frequently  repeated  in  the  Gospels.  It  seems 
to  represent  the  core  of  his  assurance  of  his  mission, 
and  the  bleeding  heart  of  his  faith  in  God  his  Father, 
—  who  should  bring  him  to  his  death  and  also  raise 
him  up  on  the  third  day.  The  power  of  his  faith 
sees  even  further  —  and  shall  we  consider  this  also 
a  feature  of  his  personal  adjustment  or  assurance  ? 
The  Son  of  man  shall  come  in  great  power  and 
glory,  to  judge  the  world,  and  send  the  angels  to 
gather  his  elect.  It  may  be  that  Jesus  drew  the 
form  of  his  convictions  as  to  his  final  coming  from 
1  Cf.  Matt.  xvi.  24-28 ;  xxv.  3 1-46. 


JESUS  213 

Messianic  expectations  current  with  his  race,  even  as 
he  accepted  prevalent  beliefs  as  to  demoniac  posses- 
sion. But,  again,  the  borrowed  form,  so  far  as  it 
was  borrowed,  casts  but  a  surface  gleam  upon  the 
moving  energies  of  his  faith. 

Such  seems  to  me  the  nature  of  Jesus'  adjustment 
of  himself  with  God.  Amplifications  will  suggest 
themselves  —  indeed  they  fill  the  Gospels,  or  con- 
stitute the  Gospel.  And  so  far  we  have  kept  to  the 
Synoptics  as  the  more  generally  accepted  record. 
The  Fourth  Gospel  seems  to  issue  from  a  stage  of 
further  reflection  upon  the  earthly  life  and  death 
of  Jesus,  and  upon  the  eternal  power  and  love  and 
life  of  Christ.  Thoughts  to  be  held  to,  thoughts 
to  be  rejected,  had  pressed  upon  the  writer,  arising 
or  suggested  (some  of  them,  perhaps,  by  Paul 
or  his  Epistles)  since  the  time  when  Jesus  walked  on 
earth.  But  their  effect  upon  the  uplifted  mind  of 
this  evangelist  does  not  impair  the  value  of  his  under- 
standing of  Christ.  I  do  not  see  why  our  historical 
consciousness  should  be  shocked  at  taking  his  Gospel 
as  spiritually  complementary  to  the  Synoptics,  and 
as  throwing  the  light  of  completion  upon  such  con- 
ceptions of  Jesus'  personal  adjustment  as  they  give. 
This  further  and  completing  adjustment  is  of  the 
divine  love,  which  is  life  and  gives  life. 

"For  God  so  loved  the  world  that  he  gave  his  only 
begotten  son,  that  everyone  believing  on  him 
should  not  perish,  but  have  eternal  life." 


214  DELIVERANCE 

"The  Father  loveth  the  Son,  and  hath  given  all 
things  into  his  hand.  He  that  believeth  on  the 
Son,  hath  eternal  Hfe"  (iii.  i6,  35,  56). 

"Even  as  the  Father  hath  loved  me,  I  also  have 
loved  you;  abide  ye  in  my  love.  If  ye  keep  my 
commandments,  ye  shall  abide  in  my  love ;  even  as 
I  have  kept  my  Father's  commandments,  and  abide 
in  his  love.  These  things  have  I  spoken  unto  you, 
that  my  joy  may  be  in  you,  and  that  your  joy  may 
be  fulfilled." 

"This  is  my  commandment  that  ye  love  one 
another,  as  I  have  loved  you.  Greater  love  hath 
no  man  than  this,  that  a  man  give  up  his  life  for 
his  friends"  (xv.  9-12,  13). 

In  these  passages,  a  number  of  cognate  thoughts 
tend  to  unite,  to  become  in  and  of  each  other: 
God's  love  for  his  Son  and  for  the  world ;  the  Son 
abiding  in  the  Father's  love,  and  sharing  in  the 
Father's  love  of  man;  men  doing  the  divine  will, 
abiding  in  the  divine  love,  and  loving  one  another. 
With  the  result  that  they  shall  be  saved  and  have 
eternal  life,  which  is  theirs  who  abide  in  the  love  of 
God,  —  the  love  which  wills  eternal  life  and  makes  to 
live.  The  end  is  the  union  of  believers,  the  union  of 
obedient  lovers,  in  Christ  and  God.  It  is  evident 
that  the  Son's  adjustment  with  the  Father  embraces 
the  salvation  of  mankind,  is  even  identical  with  it. 

This  will  appear  more  clearly  if  we  turn  back 
and  follow  the  Gospel  for  a  little.     "God  is  spirit," 


JESUS  215 

Jesus  has  said  to  the  Samaritan  woman ;  and  when 
his  disciples  have  returned  to  the  well,  and  ask  him 
to  eat,  he  answers  that  he  has  meat  they  know  not 
of,  which  is  to  do  the  will  of  him  who  sent  him. 
After  the  healing  at  the  Bethesda  pool,  he  says  to 
the  Jews,  "He  that  heareth  my  word,  and  believeth 
him  that  sent  me,  hath  eternal  life,  and  cometh  not 
into  judgement,  but  hath  passed  out  of  death  into 
life.  .  .  .  For  as  the  Father  hath  life  in  himself, 
even  so  gave  he  to  the  Son  also  to  have  life  in  himself. 
...  I  can  do  nothing  of  myself."  And  at  another 
time:  "I  am  come  down  from  heaven,  not  to  do 
mine  own  will,  but  the  will  of  him  that  sent  me. 
And  this  is  the  will  of  him  that  sent  me,  that  of  all 
that  which  he  hath  given  me,  I  should  lose  nothing, 
but  should  raise  it  up  at  the  last  day." 

Here  it  is  clear,  that  as  Christ's  adjustment 
is  to  do  his  Father's  will,  which  is  that  no  believing 
life  shall  be  lost,  so  that  adjustment  must  include 
the  imparting  of  eternal  life  to  all  believers.  The 
absolute  life-giving  power  of  spirit  is  next  declared. 
"I  am  the  bread  of  life,"  —  a  hard  saying  to  the 
Jews.  In  the  explanation  to  the  disciples,  Jesus 
says  :  "It  is  the  spirit  that  maketh  life"  :  ro  Trvevfxai 
ia-TLv  TO  ^(ooiroLovv.  Even  as  it  is  the  truth  that  maketh 
free,  free  from  the  bondage  to  sin,  wherein  there 
cannot  be  the  eternal  freedom  of  the  spirit. 

"...  and  I  lay  down  my  life  for  the  sheep. 
•  .  .  My  sheep   hear   my  voice   .    .    ,    and   I   give 


2l6  DELIVERANCE 

them  eternal  life;  and  they  shall  never  perish,  and 
no  one  shall  snatch  them  out  of  my  hand.  My 
Father,  which  hath  given  them  unto  me,  is  greater 
than  all ;  and  no  one  is  able  to  snatch  them  out  of 
the  Father's  hand.     I  and  the  Father  are  one." 

The  final  discourses  with  the  disciples  contain  the 
fullest  expression  of  the  adjustment  of  the  Son  with 
and  in  the  Father;  they  also  set  forth  the  ultimate 
phases  of  that  love  and  life  which  Christ  is,  in  and  of 
the  Father,  and  which  those  receive  who  love  him, 
and  thereby  become  one  with  him  and  the  Father. 
They  include  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  John,  and 
then  the  fifteenth  with  its  image  of  the  true  Vine, 
also  the  sixteenth,  a  chapter  of  love's  consolations, 
—  "that  in  me  ye  may  have  peace"  ;  and  finally  the 
seventeenth,  where  analysis  may  well  hesitate. 

"Father,  the  hour  is  come;  glorify  thy  Son  that 
the  Son  may  glorify  thee :  even  as  thou  hast  given 
him  authority  over  all  flesh,  that  whatsoever  thou 
hast  given  him,  to  them  he  should  give  eternal  life. 
And  this  is  life  eternal,  that  they  should  know  thee, 
the  only  true  God,  and  him  whom  thou  didst  send, 
even  Jesus  Christ.  I  glorified  thee  on  the  earth, 
having  accomplished  the  work  which  thou  hast  given 
me  to  do.  And  now,  O  Father,  glorify  thou  me 
with  thine  own  self  with  the  glory  which  I  had  with 
thee  before  the  world  was." 

Thereupon  the  prayer  turns  directly  to  the 
disciples  and  those  who  are  to  believe  through  their 


JESUS  217 

word:  "Sanctify  them  in  the  truth;  thy  word  is 
truth  .  .  .  that  they  may  all  be  one ;  even  as  thou, 
Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they  also  may 
be  in  us  :  that  the  world  may  believe  that  thou  didst 
send  me.  And  the  glory  which  thou  hast  given  me 
I  have  given  unto  them;  that  they  may  be  one, 
even  as  we  are  one;  I  in  them,  and  thou  in  me, 
that  they  may  be  perfected  into  one  .  .  .  that  the 
love  wherewith  thou  lovedst  me  may  be  in  them, 
and  I  in  them." 

So  far  as  the  mystery  of  Christ  may  be  unveiled, 
these  words  declare  that  the  adjustment,  the  assur- 
ance, the  salvation,  which  was  his  and  in  his  life, 
consummates  itself  in  the  life  of  God  and  in  the 
salvation  of  men,  through  the  divine  love  and  the 
imparting  of  life  through  love's  sanctifying  truth. 


CHAPTER  X 

Paul 

"pAUL'S  antecedents  as  a  Jew  and  education  as 
■^  a  Pharisee  drastically  shaped  the  creative 
working  of  his  religious  genius,  and  set  the  ways 
through  which  he  reached  that  power  of  conviction 
which  was  to  move  the  Gentile  world.  ^  The  intellec- 
tual necessities  of  this  Jew  and  Pharisee,  in  conflict 
and  in  alliance  with  his  experience  of  Christ,  moulded 
the  form  of  his  adjustment,  his  devotion,  and  his 
assurance  of  salvation.  Some  of  his  phrases,  even 
some  of  his  conceptions,  may  have  been  taken  from 
the  mystery-religions  of  the  Hellenistic  world  he 
moved  in.  When  the  phrases  or  the  ideas  of  those 
ubiquitous  cults  offered  themselves  as  vehicles  for 
the  expression,  or  means  for  the  clarification,  of  his 
thoughts  of  Christ  and  his  new  relationship  to  God 
through  Christ,  he  naturally  used  tjiem. 

Leaving  his  birthplace,  the  Hellenistic  city  of 
Tarsus,  Paul  went  to  Jerusalem  as  a  youth,  where  he 
diligently  studied  the  law  of  Israel  at  the  feet  of 
Gamaliel.  That  honoured  Pharisee  appears  as  the 
most  tolerant  and  patient-minded  of  his  class.  It 
was  he  who  stayed  the  first  persecution  of  the 
apostles,  warning  the  Sanhedrin  to  beware,  since 

218 


PAUL  219 

perchance  the  teaching  in  the  name  of  Jesus  might  be 
of  God  (Acts  v).  Yet  he  was  a  learned  master  and 
strict  observer  of  the  law ;  and  there  was  at  least 
one  zealot  in  his  school.  That  zealot,  somewhat 
later,  is  found  approving  of  the  death  of  Stephen, 
and  then  becomes  an  eager  persecutor  of  the  followers 
of  Jesus.  Active  at  Jerusalem  in  committing  them 
to  prison,  he  takes  letters  from  the  High  Priest  to 
the  Damascus  synagogues,  in  order  that  he  may  hunt 
them  there. 

Although  Saul's  persecution  of  the  Church  is 
frequently  referred  to  in  the  Acts  and  in  his  own 
Epistles,  we  are  not  intimately  informed  as  to  its 
motives,  save  that  it  sprang  from  zeal  for  the  law : 
**Ye  have  heard,"  he  writes  to  the  Galatians,  "of 
my  manner  of  life  in  time  past  in  the  Jews'  religion, 
how  that  beyond  measure  I  persecuted  the  Church  of 
God,  and  made  havoc  of  it :  and  I  advanced  in  the 
Jews'  religion  beyond  many  of  mine  companions 
among  my  countrymen,  being  more  exceedingly 
zealous  for  the  traditions  of  my  fathers." 

So  we  cannot  tell  just  what  was  working  in  the 
mind  of  the  young  man  Saul,  while  the  garments  of 
those  who  were  stoning  Stephen  were  in  keeping 
at  his  feet;  nor  what  was  surging  in  him  while  on 
the  way  to  Damascus.  Zealous  for  the  law,  was  he 
wilfully  hurrying  on,  lest  he  find  himself  stopped  by 
the  reluctance  of  misgivings  and  the  dissuasion  of 
counter  impulses  ?     Such   matters,   and   the   more 


220  DELIVERANCE 

definite  stroke  of  illumination'and  repentance  which 
overcame  him,  each  of  us  will  interpret  for  himself: 
the  resources  of  modern  psychology  are  at  our  dis- 
posal. That  "vision/'  however,  was  to  be  an  up- 
lifting—  not  an  overturning  —  of  tjie  contents  of 
Paul's  education  and  convictions. 

After  he  was  led  into  the  city,  and  his  sight  had 
been  restored  by  brother  Ananias,  or,  as  he  puts  it 
in  his  own  words,  looking  back  after  many  years' 
consideration:  "when  it  was  the  good  pleasure  of 
God,  who  separated  me,  even  from  my  mother's 
womb,  and  called  me  through  his  grace,  to  reveal 
his  Son  in  me,  that  I  might  preach  him  among  the 
Gentiles,  straightway  I  did  not  take  counsel  with 
flesh  and  blood  .  .  .  hut  I  went  away  into  Arabia" 
(Gal.  i). 

We  are  ignorant  of  the  nature  and  setting  of  this 
retirement.  Let  us  not  imagine  that  we  can  think 
as  Paul;  his  very  words,  impressed  with  his  ex- 
perience and  peculiar  education,  do  not  bear  the 
same  meaning  to  us  that  they  had  for  him.  We 
must  not  be  too  sure  that  we  really  understand  the 
argumentation  of  his  Epistles;  still  less  can  we 
penetrate  the  conflicts,  or  the  reasonings  within 
himself,  which  we  think  he  must  have  passed 
through,  before  he  attained  to  those  convictions 
and  that  power  of  faith  which  were  to  move  the 
Gentiles.  But  at  least  we  must  interpret  this 
journey  into  Arabia  as  a  period  of  retirement  and 


PAUL  221 

reflection.  It  is  inconceivable  that  he  did  not  need 
a  time  of  quiet  to  restore  his  mind,  and  enable  him 
to  get  new  bearings  on  the  old  sea  of  his  fathomless 
education  and  inheritance,  before  he  could  steer  a 
course  by  the  light  flashing  within  him. 

As  to  arguments  and  communings  with  himself, 
before  his  great  convictions  came,  we  can  only 
work  back  to  them  very  uncertainly,  by  inference. 
And  yet  it  seems  as  if  we  could  trace,  for  instance, 
in  a  writing  of  such  personal  intensity  as  the  Epistle 
to  the  Galatians,  something  of  the  process  by  which 
those  convictions  had  become  a  very  part  of  Paul, 
belonging  to  his  mental  and  religious  growth,  as  we 
might  say,  or,  as  he  would  deem,  springing  from  the 
power  of  Christ  within  him. 

But  before  making  this  approach  to  a  view  of  the 
scope  and  contents  of  the  great  deliverance  which 
Paul  attained  in  Christ,  its  basis,  as  it  were  the  body 
which  was  to  be  transformed  and  clothed  upon, 
must  be  grasped.  Paul  was  a  Jew,  and  to  the  end 
remained  a  Jew,  faithful  to  the  God  of  his  fathers, 
and  faithful  to  the  law  of  Israel  as  he  conceived  that 
law  to  have  been  fulfilled  in  Christ.  If  Jesus  said 
that  not  one  jot  or  tittle  of  the  law  should  pass 
away  till  all  things  were  fulfilled,  so  Paul,  following 
the  argumentation  in  which  he  had  been  trained, 
and  holding  fast  to  the  law's  elemental  or  pedagogic 
authority,  rises  above  it  through  its  own  reasonings, 
compels  the  old  to  support  the  new,  and  so  fulfil 


222  DELIVERANCE 

itself  in  Christ.  "  Do  we  then  make  the  law  of  none 
effect  through  faith  ?  Nay,  we  establish  the  law"  — 
even  in  the  principle  of  justification  through  faith. 
Is  not  this  a  large  part  of  the  burden  of  the  Epistle  to 
the  Romans  ?  A  burden  which  is  carried  with 
strainings  of  the  spirit !  The  bearer  is  driven  for- 
ward by  the  sense  of  his  own  inability  to  fulfil  the 
law,  —  a  deep  and  dreadful  sense  of  his  radically 
evil  nature,  which  compels  him  to  do  the  thing  he 
hates.  This  body  of  sin  and  death  must  literally 
be  dispossessed  and  replaced  by  the  spirit  of  Christ, 
which  we  have  through  faith  and  hope  and  love. 

It  is  wonderful  how  legal  are  Paul's  arguments, 
and  through  what  tortuous  and  narrow-necked  pas- 
sages he  emerges  into  the  breadth  of  the  truth  of 
Christ.  It  is  all  there  in  Romans:  the  twistings 
seem  to  end  with  the  seventh  chapter,  and  with 
the  opening  of  the  eighth,  Paul  has  cast  off  the 
body  of  this  death  and  freed  himself  from  the  con- 
demnation of  the  law:  "There  is  therefore  no 
condemnation  to  them  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus  .  .  . 
and  we  know  that  to  them  that  love  God  all  things 
work  together  for  good.  ..."  And  yet,  perhaps 
alas !  perhaps  unavoidably,  Paul  must  needs  re- 
trammel  himself  in  arguments  touching  the  right- 
eousness of  God's  foreordainment  as  to  the  elect. 
Because  of  such  hamperings  and  hindrances,  Paul, 
with  all  his  splendid  breadth  and  truth  of  mind 
and  heart,   perhaps   seems  to  fail  to  dwell  quite 


PAUL  223 

easily  in  the  absolute  universality  of  the  Fatherhood 
of  God  and  the  spirit  of  Christ,  life-giving,  re- 
creating. Yet  with  fervent  power  he  makes  even 
that  his  own,  through  revelation  and  the  grace  of 
God. 

It  will  now  be  illuminating  to  follow  the  argument 
of  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians.  The  fervour  of 
his  exhortations  to  those  people,  well-meaning,  and 
yet  foolish  and  bewitched,  harks  back  to  disputa- 
tions with  himself,  in  the  years  when  he  had  need 
to  press  his  way  through  each  successive  difficulty 
springing  out  of  his  education  —  thorns  for  his  feet! 
We  feel  the  admonition  of  the  superscription: 
"  Paul  an  apostle,  not  from  men  /  .  ,  ,  grace  to  you 
and  peace  from  God  the  Father,  and  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  who  gave  himself  for  our  sins,  that 
he  might  deliver  us  out  of  this  present  evil  world." 
The  admonition  becomes  explicit  in  the  next  sen- 
tences. Then  he  recalls  how  he  had  made  known  to 
them  that  the  Gospel  which  he  preached  came  to  him 
through  revelation  of  Jesus  Christ,  not  from  the 
instruction  of  James,  Cephas,  or  John,  who,  never- 
theless, in  good  time  gave  him  the  right  hand  of 
fellowship,  as  having  been  intrusted  with  the  Gospel 
for  the  Gentiles.  And  he  recounts  that  subsequent 
argument  with  Cephas,  in  which  he  so  energetically 
bade  him  to  remember  that  even  he,  Cephas,  did  not 
live  like  a  Jew,  but  believed  in  Christ  in  order  to  be 
justified  through  faith  in  Christ,  and  not  by  works 


224  DELIVERANCE 

of  the  law ;  since  by  works  of  the  law  shall  no  flesh 
be  justified. 

Then  he  turns  and  demands  of  them  :  "Received 
ye  the  Spirit  by  the  works  of  the  law,  or  by  the  hear- 
ing of  the  faith  ?  Are  ye  so  foolish  ?  having  begun 
in  the  Spirit,  are  ye  now  perfected  in  the  flesh?** 
May  not  Paul  have  pricked  himself  with  this  same 
sarcasm,  and  often  asked  himself  these  very  ques- 
tions, while  he  was  adjusting  his  past  with  the  call 
through  grace  and  the  revelation  of  the  Son  in  him, 
which  first  took  place  on  a  certain  day  when  on 
the  road  to  Damascus  ?  Some  twenty  years  had 
passed  since  then.  And  now  he  quotes  to  his 
Galatians  those  words  from  the  fifteenth  chapter  of 
Genesis,  which  seem  never  to  have  left  his  mind  — 
repeatedly  he  quotes  them,  and  how  often  must  he 
have  said  them  to  himself:  "Abraham  believed  God, 
and  it  was  reckoned  unto  him  for  righteousness." 
He  draws  for  his  hearers  the  inference,  with  which 
doubtless  he  often  had  assured  himself,  that  he  still 
was  an  inheritor  of  the  promise  made  to  Abraham : 
"Know  therefore  that  they  which  be  of  faith,  the 
same  are  sons  of  Abraham.  And  the  Scripture, 
foreseeing  that  God  would  justify  the  Gentiles 
by  faith,  preached  the  Gospel  beforehand  unto 
Abraham,  saying,  In  thee  shall  all  the  nations  be 
blessed."  So  then  they  which  be  of  faith  are  blessed 
with  the  faithful  Abraham. 

He   passes   to   another  comforting   passage,   this 


PAUL  225 

time  from  Habakkuk :  "The  righteous  man  shall 
live  by  faith/*  But  Paul  comes  to  it  in  this  Epistle 
through  the  jarring  curses  of  the  law,  and  the  re- 
demption which  the  crucifixion  worked  —  straining, 
as  it  may  seem  to  us,  the  connexion  if  not  the  meaning 
of  the  passages.  Had  he  meant  that  no  one  could 
be  justified  by  the  works  of  the  law,  and  yet  whoever 
failed  in  them  had  been  accursed ;  but  now  Christ, 
hanging  upon  the  tree,  had  abolished  the  curse  for 
his  believers,  and  made  firm  their  justification 
through  faith  ? 

He  next  argues  that  Christ  is  the  seed,  in  whom 
the  covenant  with  Abraham  is  confirmed.  The 
law  was  added  because  of  transgressions,  till  the 
seed  should  come,  to  whom  the  promise  had  been 
made,  this  promise  which  enures  to  the  salvation  of 
those  who  believe  in  Christ.  Till  then,  we  were 
wards  of  the  law,  but  now  are  no  longer  in  its  tute- 
lage. At  this  point,  Paul's  great  conclusion  —  and 
his  own  spirit  —  flings  itself  free:  "For  ye  are  all 
sons  of  God,  through  faith  in  Christ  Jesus."  And 
the  conclusion  is  immediately  substantiated:  "For 
as  many  of  you  as  were  baptised  into  Christ  did  put 
on  Christ.  There  can  be  neither  Jew  nor  Greek, 
there  can  be  neither  bond  nor  free,  there  can  be  no 
male  and  female :  for  ye  are  all  one  man  in  Christ 
Jesus."  Yet  still  the  clinging  Jew  in  Paul  turns 
back  again  to  reassure  his  converts,  as  he  once  had 
needed  to  reassure  himself:  "And  if  ye  are  Christ's, 


226  DELIVERANCE 

then  are  ye  Abraham's  seed,  heirs  according  to 
promise."  But  while  in  tutelage  as  children,  until 
the  time  appointed  by  the  Father,  we  were  in  bond- 
age to  the  rudiments,  the  A-B-Cs,  perhaps,  the 
elemental  spirits  {o-tolx'^ui  tov  koo-/xov;  where  did 
Paul  get  this  word  so  much  used  in  primary  edu- 
cation and  in  philosophy  ?),  until  in  the  fulness  of 
time  God  sent  his  Son,  born  under  the  law,  that  he 
might  redeem  those  under  the  law,  and  we  might 
receive  the  adoption  of  sons :  would  ye  who  now 
know  God  turn  back  to  the  beggarly  elements  ! 

Thus  he  fiercely  clinches  his  argument;  as  in 
times  past  he  often  may  have  driven  it  home  to 
himself.  One  must  remember  that  none  of  Paul's 
extant  Epistles  was  written  till  many  years  after 
the  vision  on  the  road;  their  fully  reasoned  out 
assurances  may  have  come  to  their  author  slowly 
through  toil  and  struggle.^  And  how  fierce  and  liv- 
ing are  the  arguments  in  these  Epistles  I  arguments 
which  Paul  must  so  often  have  levelled  at  his  own 
difficulties.  Indeed,  did  he  ever  altogether  cast  ofF 
his  reliance  on  these  arguments  which  had  established 
his  freedom  from  the  law .?  In  this  Epistle  to  the 
Galatians,  at  least,  he  is  not  yet  satisfied  that  he  has 
convinced  them  fully,  for  he  allegorises   from  the 

*  Though  it  is  hazardous  to  rely  on  Acts  for  the  exact  speeches 
of  Paul,  Acts  xiii.  16-41  seems  to  give  an  early  stage  of  Paul's 
preaching  before  he  had  fully  worked  out  the  arguments  of  his 
Epistles. 


PAUL  227 

two  sons  of  Abraham,  the  one  by  a  handmaid,  born 
after  the  flesh,  the  other  by  the  free  woman,  bom 
through  promise,  —  the  promise  which  is  unto  us. 
Then  he  warns  them  not  to  receive  circumcision; 
for  in  Christ  neither  circumcision  nor  uncircum- 
cislon  availeth,  but  faith  working  through  love. 

In  these  last  words,  Paul's  argument,  and  he  with 
it,  again  flings  off  its  fetters;  and  he  continues, 
admonishing  the  Galatians  practically  with  the 
beautiful  disencumbered  ethics  of  Christ.  Closing, 
again  he  warns  them  against  those  who  insist  on 
circumcision,  and  do  not  themselves  keep  the  law 
(no  more  than  Cephas  did  !).  They  would  glory  in 
your  flesh  1  "But  far  be  it  from  me  to  glory,  save 
in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  through  which 
the  world  has  been  crucified  to  me,  and  I  unto  the 
world.  For  neither  is  circumcision  anything,  nor 
uncircumcision,  hut  a  new  creature.  And  as  many 
as  shall  walk  by  this  rule,  peace  be  upon  them,  and 
mercy,  and  upon  the  Israel  of  God.  From  hence- 
forth let  no  man  trouble  me :  for  I  bear  branded  on 
my  body  the  marks  of  Jesus.  The  grace  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  be  with  your  spirit.     Amen." 

Paul's  phrases  have  long  since  become  pious 
commonplaces,  emptied  or  filled  with  meaning 
to  suit  the  user.  But  Paul,  when  he  said  that 
through  the  cross  of  Christ  the  world  had  been 
crucified  to  him  and  he  to  the  world,  meant  verily 
that  his  old   life  —  his   sinful  nature  —  had   gone 


228  DELIVERANCE 

out  of  him,  and  was  replaced  with  the  eternal  life 
of  Christ,  and  that  thereby  he  was  literally  a  new 
creature,  from  which  the  old  had  passed  away. 
We  must  accustom  ourselves  to  read  in  such  words 
of  Paul  the  veritable,  almost  corporeal,  meaning 
which  they  carried  for  him,  if  we  would  form  an 
idea  of  the  adjustment  which  it  was  given  him  to 
attain. 

That  may  now  be  approached  through  a  sheer  and 
well-nigh  literal  acceptance  of  what  he  is  saying 
in  the  opening  chapters  of  the  first  Epistle  to  the 
Corinthians.  He  is  beseeching  them  to  have  done 
with  divisions,  one  saying,  "I  am  of  Paul,"  and 
another,  "I  am  of  ApoUos";  and  he  is  glad  that 
he  himself  baptised  so  few  of  them,  lest  they  might 
say  they  were  baptised  in  his  name.  And  thereupon, 
according  to  the  greatness  of  his  nature,  Paul  lifts 
the  matter  above  their  small  contentions,  into  the 
region  of  the  truth  of  Christ.  "For  Christ  sent 
me  not  to  baptise,  but  to  preach  the  Gospel :  not 
in  wisdom  of  words,  lest  the  cross  of  Christ  should 
be  made  void.  For  the  word  of  the  cross  is  to  them 
that  are  perishing  foolishness;  but  unto  us  which 
are  being  saved  it  is  the  power  of  God" — 8vm/u.is 
O^ov  —  literally,  or  rather,  verily,  the  power  of  God. 
.  .  .  "We  preach  Christ  crucified,"  a  stumbling 
for  the  Jews  and  foolishness  to  the  Gentiles,  "but 
unto  them  that  are  called,  both  Jews  and  Greeks, 
Christ  the  power  of  God,  and  the  wisdom  of  God" 


PAUL  ^ 

—  again,  literally  and  veritably.     And  then  ^   ,^ 
Paul  has  referred  to  his  own  feebleness,  and 

he  tells  them  he  has  not  preached  persuasiv 
of  wisdom,  but  set  forth  a  demonstratior 
and  power:    "that  your  faith  should  n 
the  wisdom  of  men,   but  in  the  pow 
literally  again,  €v  Swa/Act  Oeov,      "For 
of  God  is  not  in  word  but  in  power." 
He  shows  them  that  as  the  spiri* 
stands  human  things,  so  "non* 
of  God  save  the  spirit  of  God," 

—  again,  literally.     "Now  th 
not  the  things  of  the  spirit 
foolishness  unto  him  .  . 
Christ,"  —  we  have  bee 
and  it  is  that  which  ^' 

old  minds,  understa^ 
ye  not  that  ye  are 
God   dwelleth   i 
but  also  with 
God  dwelleth 
that  he  is,  ^ 
sake,  naked, 
admonishes 
splendid  rel 
tation  ba*- 
was  to  b' 
body  is 
which 


DELIVERANCE 

■>9     ^jre  moving  in  the  atmosphere  of  Paul's  ad- 

t,  and  may  now  in  some  degree  appreciate 

.Its  and  periphery.     His  large  nature  needed 

ce  manifold  and  comprehensive,  satisfying 

as  well  as  mind,  and  including  the  salva- 

loved  fellows.     As  a  foundation,  his  feet 

in  the  monotheism  of  the  prophets  of 

^  know  that  no  idol  is  anything  in 

bat  there  is  no  god  but  one  ...  to 

the  Father,  of  whom  are  all 

'm,  and  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 

1    things,    and    we    through 

'the  image  of  the  invisible 

-eation;    ...  all  things 

m  and  unto  him ;   and 

*m  all  things  consist 

ss  of  the  Godhead 

lom  we  have  re- 

.     For  it  was 

,  through  him 

'  aving  made 

."    (Col.   i). 

Lord  from 

I  trespasses, 

therefore 

.  through 


PAUL  23 t 

Paul's  conception  of  the  nature  and  function  of 
Christ  is  one  of  the  wonderful  things  of  history. 
With  him,  God,  the  Father  of  all,  is  the  source  of 
power  and  life  and  love.  But  the  fulness  of  the 
Godhead  dwelleth  bodily  in  Christ,  and  it  is  in  Christ 
that  Paul  virtually  lives  and  moves  and  has  his  be- 
ing :  unto  the  measure  of  whose  fulness  tendeth  the 
stature  of  the  full-grown  man;  he  is  the  absolute 
standard ;  his  love  const raineth  us,  and  the  spirit  of 
Christ  is  life  within  us  —  that  which  does  away 
with  the  sinfulness  and  mortality  of  the  flesh. 
"The  free  gift  of  God  is  eternal  life  in  Christ  Jesus 
our  Lord"  (Rom.  vi.  23).  "But  ye  are  not  in  the 
flesh,  but  in  the  spirit,  if  so  be  that  the  spirit  of  God 
dwelleth  in  you.  But  if  any  man  hath  not  (literally 
"hath  not")  the  spirit  of  Christ,  he  is  none  of  his. 
And  if  Christ  is  in  you,  the  body  is  dead  because  of 
sin ;  but  the  spirit  is  life  because  of  righteousness. 
But  if  the  spirit  of  him  that  raised  up  Jesus  from 
the  dead  dwelleth  in  you,  he  that  raised  up  Christ 
Jesus  from  the  dead  shall  quicken  also  your  mortal 
bodies  through  his  spirit  that  dwelleth  in  you" 
(Rom.  viii.  9). 

It  is  hazardous  to  attempt  to  state  Paul's  thoughts, 
his  convictions,  his  expressions  of  the  power  through 
which  he  lived,  in  any  language  save  his  own; 
and  even  then  we  may  doubt  whether  we  grasp  his 
words  in  the  significance  they  bore  for  him.  Justifi- 
cation by  faith  !  surely :    yet  how  that  legally  ar- 


232  DELIVERANCE 

rived  at  principle  pales  before  the  living  Christ  in 
whom  is  life  !  As  Paul  had  risen  from  the  law,  and 
had  wrestled  himself  free  from  the  bondage  of  its 
arguments,  his  adjustment  was  to  be  no  longer  of 
the  reason  only,  or  even  mainly.  It  was  of  the  whole 
man,  comforted,  assured,  dwelling  in  the  lordship 
and  power  of  the  loving  and  saving  Christ. 

"Though  our  outward  man  is  decaying,  yet  our 
inward  man  is  renewed  day  by  day.  For  our  light 
affliction,  which  is  for  the  moment,  worketh  for  us 
more  and  more  an  eternal  weight  of  glory  ...  we 
know  that  if  the  earthly  house  of  our  tabernacle  be 
dissolved,  we  have  a  building  from  God,  a  house  not 
made  with  hands,  eternal,  in  the  heavens.  .  .  .  For 
the  love  of  Christ  constraineth  us,  since  we  judge 
that  as  one  died  for  all,  therefore  all  died ;  and  he  died 
for  all,  that  they  which  live  should  no  longer  live 
unto  themselves,  but  unto  him  who  for  their  sakes 
died  and  rose  again.  Wherefore  we  henceforth 
know  no  man  after  the  flesh ;  even  though  we  have 
known  Christ  after  the  flesh,  yet  now  we  know  him 
so  no  more.  Wherefore  if  any  man  is  in  Christ, 
he  is  a  new  creature:  the  old  things  have  passed 
away;  behold,  they  are  become  new.  But  all 
things  are  from  God,  who  reconciled  us  to  himself 
through  Christ.  .  .  .  God  was  in  Christ  reconciling 
the  world  unto  himself"  (2  Cor.  iv  and  v). 

And  how  had  not  the  great  Apostle,  to  whom  the 
word  of  reconciliation  had  been  committed  (2  Cor. 


PAUL  233 

V.  19),  to  whom  had  been  vouchsafed  visions,  up- 
liftings  to  the  heavens,  and  the  revelation  of  Christ 
within  himself,  how  had  he  not  felt  the  power  of  God 
in  his  own  weakness,  when  he  had  prayed  that  the 
"stake  in  the  flesh"  might  be  removed,  and  the 
answer  had  been :  "My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee; 
for  power  is  perfected  in  weakness." 

One  need  not  pause  to  say  that  in  Paul's  adjust- 
ment, justification  by  faith  —  the  spirit  of  Christ  in 
the  believer  !  —  is  organically  united  with  all  right- 
eousness, and  separated  from  all  sin  and  sinfulness, 
an  ethical  union  and  separation  which  is  expanded 
and  emphasised  throughout  Paul's  Epistles.  The 
final  bond  of  all,  and  even  the  inmost  principle  of 
salvation,  is  love  —  the  love  of  God,  the  love  of 
Christ,  the  love  of  man.  "Who  shall  separate  us  from 
the  love  of  Christ  ?  shall  tribulation,  or  anguish,  or 
persecution,  or  famine,  or  nakedness,  or  peril,  or 
sword  ?  Nay,  in  all  these  things  we  are  more  than 
conquerors  through  him  that  loved  us.  For  I  am 
persuaded,  that  neither  death,  nor  life,  nor  angels, 
nor  principalities,  nor  things  present  nor  things  to 
come,  nor  powers,  nor  height,  nor  depth,  nor  any 
other  creature,  shall  be  able  to  separate  us  from  the 
love  of  God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord." 

All  spiritual  gifts,  all  manifestations  of  the  power 
of  life  within  us,  are  they  not  of  the  same  spirit 
of  God  ?  diversities  of  workings,  and  the  same  God 
who  worketh  all  things  in  all  ?     And  are  we  not  all 


234  DELIVERANCE 

members  of  the  same  body  of  Christ  ?  For  the  ob- 
taining of  these  gifts  of  the  Spirit,  these  freely 
bestowed  powers  of  God,  which  are  one  in  their 
source  of  Christ,  "a  still  more  excellent  way  show  I 
unto  you."  And  Paul  breaks  into  his  lyric  chapter 
on  the  indispensable  and  excellent  sufficiency  of 
love,  in  that  adjustment  which  unites  the  relation- 
ships between  men  with  the  relationship  of  man  to 
God.  It  is  this  necessary  principle  and  fact  of  love, 
this  having  within  himself  the  mind  of  Christ,  which 
will  not  permit  Paul  to  rest  in  any  adjustment,  or 
assurance  of  salvation,  that  does  not  include  the 
salvation  of  his  loved  fellow-beings:  "Wherefore, 
my  brethren  beloved  and  longed  for,  my  joy  and 
my  crown,  so  stand  fast  in  the  Lord,  my  beloved" 
(Phil.  iv.  i).  "I  say  the  truth  in  Christ,  I  lie  not, 
my  conscience  bearing  witness  with  me  in  the  Holy 
Spirit,  that  I  have  great  sorrow  and  unceasing  pain 
in  my  heart.  For  I  could  wish  that  I  myself  were 
anathema  from  Christ  for  my  brethren's  sake,  my 
kinsmen  after  the  flesh,  who  are  Israelites"  (Rom. 
ix.  i). 

These  are  the  horns,  not  so  much  of  Paul's  di- 
lemma as  of  his  full  adjustment  and  salvation. 
The  fervour  of  his  Epistles,  which  may  become  a 
veritable /ttror,  belongs  to  his  passion  to  save  men  in 
Christ.  It  pours  through  the  Epistles  to  the  Philip- 
piansand  the  Thessalonians — through  all  his  Epistles 
indeed :   "  For  I  am  jealous  over  you  with  a  godly 


PAUL  235 

jealousy !  .  .  .  Of  the  Jews  five  times  received  I 
forty  stripes  save  one.  Thrice  was  I  beaten  with 
rods,  once  was  I  stoned,  thrice  I  suffered  shipwreck 
...  in  journeyings  often,  in  perils  in  the  city,  in 
perils  in  the  wilderness  ...  in  labour  and  travail, 
in  hunger  and  thirst,  in  cold  and  nakedness.  Beside 
those  things  that  are  without,  there  is  that  which 
presseth  upon  me  daily,  anxiety  for  all  the  churches. 
Who  is  weak,  and  I  am  not  weak  ?  who  is  made  to 
stumble,  and  I  burn  not  ?"  (2  Cor.  xi.  2  sqq.), 
**For  what  is  our  hope,  or  joy,  or  crown  of  glorying.? 
Are  not  even  ye,  before  our  Lord  Jesus  at  his  coming  ? 
...  for  now  we  live  if  ye  stand  fast  in  the  Lord" 
(i  Thess.  ii.  19;  iii.  8). 

In  common  with  the  disciples  of  Jesus,  Paul 
shared  the  expectation  of  the  near  coming  of  the 
Lord,  —  even  before  their  generation  should  have 
passed  away.  Questions  were  rife  in  the  first  Chris- 
tian communities  as  to  the  manner  of  the  resurrec- 
tion, and  even  as  to  the  relative  advantages  or  prec- 
edence, on  that  day,  of  the  living  and  the  dead. 
"But  we  would  not  have  you  ignorant,  brethren, 
concerning  them  that  fall  asleep.  .  .  .  For  if  we 
believe  that  Jesus  died  and  rose  again,  even  so  them 
also  that  are  fallen  asleep  in  Jesus  will  God  bring 
with  him.  For  this  we  say  unto  you  by  the  word 
of  the  Lord,  that  we  that  are  alive,  that  are  left  until 
the  coming  of  the  Lord,  shall  in  no  wise  precede 
them  that  are  fallen  asleep.     For  the  Lord  himself 


236  DELIVERANCE 

shall  descend  from  heaven  with  a  shout,  with  the 
voice  of  the  archangel,  and  with  the  trump  of  God  : 
and  the  dead  in  Christ  shall  rise  first :  then  we  that 
are  alive,  that  are  left,  shall  together  with  them  be 
caught  up  in  the  clouds,  to  meet  the  Lord  in  the  air : 
and  so  shall  we  ever  be  with  the  Lord"  (i  Thess. 
iv.  13-17).  Without  a  realisation  of  this  conviction 
of  Paul's  one  cannot  understand  all  parts  of  the 
fifteenth  chapter  of  First  Corinthians,  as  when  he 
says:  "We  shall  not  all  sleep,  but  we  shall  all  be 
changed,  in  a  moment,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  at 
the  last  trump :  for  the  trumpet  shall  sound,  and 
the  dead  shall  be  raised  incorruptible,  and  we  shall 
be  changed.  For  this  corruption  must  put  on  incor- 
ruption,  and  this  mortal  must  put  on  immortality." 

Mightily  Paul  preached  the  resurrection,  without 
which  his  own  peace,  his  adjustment,  his  assurance 
of  salvation,  were  an  idle  song,  as  he  knew.  "If 
in  this  life  only  we  have  hoped  in  Christ,  we  are  of  all 
men  most  pitiable.  ...  If  the  dead  are  not 
raised,  let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die." 

And  his  comfort  of  assurance  lay  in  the  life  in 
Christ,  and  the  sure  expectation  of  the  coming  of 
the  Lord.  Wherefore,  in  the  midst  of  stripes  and 
persecutions,  his  heart  did  steadily  rejoice,  and  bade 
his  brethren  also  to  rejoice:  "Rejoice  in  the  Lord 
always :  again  I  will  say,  rejoice.  .  .  .  The  Lord 
is  at  hand.  In  nothing  be  anxious.  .  .  .  And  the 
peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all  understanding,  shall 


PAUL  237 

guard  your  hearts  and  your  thoughts  in  Christ  Jesus. 
Finally,  brethren,  whatsoever  things  are  true,  what- 
soever things  are  honorable,  whatsoever  things  are 
just,  whatsoever  things  are  pure,  whatsoever  things 
are  lovely,  whatsoever  things  are  of  good  report; 
if  there  be  any  virtue,  and  if  there  be  any  praise, 
think  on  these  things"  (Phil.  iv). 

Thus  Paul  joins  together  the  factors  of  his  peace, 
which  rested  in  the  Lord,  in  his  near  coming,  in  the 
joy  of  his  own  and  his  fellows'  salvation,  —  saved 
in  part  through  his  ministry;  which  rested  also  in 
purity  of  life,  and  in  the  love  which  worketh  all 
things  in  love ;  love  which  is  very  near  to  knowledge, 
very  near  to  the  realisation  of  the  purposes  of  God. 
"For  this  cause  I  bow  my  knees  unto  the  Father, 
from  whom  every  family  in  heaven  and  on  earth  is 
named,  that  he  would  grant  you,  according  to  the 
riches  of  his  glory,  that  ye  may  be  strengthened  with 
power  through  his  spirit  in  the  inward  man;  that 
Christ  may  dwell  in  your  hearts  through  faith; 
to  the  end  that  ye,  being  rooted  and  grounded  in 
love,  may  be  strong  to  apprehend  with  all  the  saints 
what  is  the  breadth  and  length  and  height  and 
depth,  and  to  know  the  love  of  Christ  which  passeth 
knowledge,  that  ye  may  be  filled  unto  all  the  fulness 
of  God''  (Eph.  iii.  14-19). 

This  last  sentence,  whether  Paul  wrote  it,  or  it  be 
by  another  hand,  is  Paul,  in  the  richness  and  power 
of  his  manifold  nature  and  his  acceptance  of  Christ. 


CHAPTER  XI 

Augustine 

TN  the  three  centuries  elapsing  between  the  death 
-*■  of  Paul  and  the  birth  of  Augustine,  Chris- 
tianity had  pressed  itself  with  vital  insistency 
upon  the  Greco-Roman  world,  until  it  had  won 
recognition  as  the  religion  of  the  Empire.  If  the 
Gospel  had  triumphed,  it  was  also  to  some  extent 
led  captive  through  its  adaptation  to  the  ways  in 
which  the  centuries  of  its  reception  could  understand 
and  accept  it.  Yet,  at  the  same  time,  the  Gospel, 
or  whatever  constituted  the  vitality  of  Christianity, 
was  constantly  advancing  through  emergence  and 
disclaimer,  keeping  itself  free  from  those  elements  of 
its  environment  which  it  could  not  accept  or  as- 
similate without  impairing  its  organic  consistency 
and  power. 

These  are  the  two  general  and  intimately  com- 
plementary phases  of  the  process  resulting  in  the 
Christianity  of  the  fourth  century.  Both  are  repre- 
sented in  Augustine.  But  his  life  evolved  elements 
of  its  own,  those  personal  features  of  his  own  spiritual 
growth  which  completed  the  Latin  understanding  of 
Christianity,  or,  if  one  will,  the  mode  of  its  reception 
by  the  Latin  world.     Latin  Christianity  becomes  it- 

238 


AUGUSTINE  239 

self  in  Augustine,  who  represents,  resumes  in  his 
experience  and  efforts  the  processes  through  which  it 
had  become  what  it  was,  not  in  the  year  354  when  he 
was  born,  but  in  the  year  430,  when  he  died,  having 
finished  his  work.  For  the  matter  of  its  growth, 
the  contents  of  its  mutations,  since  apostolic  times, 
were  purified  and  finished  in  his  person.  The  greater, 
or  at  least  the  better,  part  of  what  was  to  endure  of 
prior  teaching  was  taken  up  and  transmitted  through 
the  unifying  and  somewhat  transforming  personality 
of  Augustine.  He  forms  the  basis,  and  even  the 
structure,  of  the  Western  Christianity  of  the  next 
thousand  years. 

Regarded  from  another  point  of  view,  Augustine 
exemplifies  the  tremendous  power  carried  in  the 
main  interest  or  most  vital  energy  of  an  age.  What 
would  he  have  been,  what  would  his  life  have 
amounted  to,  had  he  not  accepted  Christianity  ? 
In  it  he  developed  his  powers,  and  brought  his 
faculties  to  actualisation.  He  was  bred  to  a  pro- 
fession which  had  lost  all  creativeness,  and  stood 
for  the  final  sterility  of  Greco-Roman  culture.  As 
long  as  he  remained  a  professor  of  rhetoric,  —  of 
pagan  literature  and  oratory, — he  moved  in  that  dry 
atmosphere,  his  own  faculties  unvitalised,  literally 
unformed,  for  lack  of  a  certain  purpose  and  a  goal. 
Then  he  was  led  to  become  a  Christian.  With  his 
conversion,  gradually,  by  no  means  at  once,  he  and 
all  his  faculties  and  all  his  knowledge  gained  form. 


240  DELIVERANCE 

and  a  unity  of  inspiration,  till  they  filled  and  ex- 
panded with  the  fulness  and  the  power  of  Christ. 

The  vast  majority  of  the  people  of  any  age  are 
busied  with  their  narrow  daily  interests.  Their 
further  hopes  and  fears  are  not  insistent;  they  are 
but  slightly  moved  either  by  religious  devotion  or 
spiritual  unrest.  It  is  but  the  remnant  that  ex- 
periences religious  fervour  or  anxiety.  The  rest 
accept  suggestions,  go  with  the  tendency  set  by  this 
remnant,  and  so  pass  from  one  spiritual  dulness  to 
another.  Making  these  provisos,  one  may  speak  of 
the  pagan  world,  in  the  first  centuries  of  the  Christian 
era,  as  restless  and  touched  with  yearning  for  a  divine 
salvation.  The  words  of  Augustine  which  have 
always  been  taken  as  the  key-note  of  the  movements 
of  his  soul,  were  applicable  to  that  pagan  world : 
"fecisti  nos  ad  te,  et  inquietum  est  cor  nostrum 
donee  requiescat  in  te."  Manifestly,  the  pagan 
world  was  seeking  a  new  spiritual  deliverance. 

The  Christian  Gospel  was  a  means  to  this  salva- 
tion, a  balm  for  this  unrest.  In  it,  to  note  its  tan- 
gible form  and  the  manner  of  its  presentation, 
Christ  was  the  Saviour,  and  the  healer  of  bodies  as 
well  as  souls.  He  offered  eternal  life,  in  the  place  of 
mortality  and  death.  He  cured  sin  as  a  disease, 
he  the  good  physician,  his  ministers  also  healing  in 
the  power  of  the  Spirit.  He  saved,  moreover, 
from  the  demons  which  possessed  and  terrified  the 
world,    causing    insanity,   disease,    and    sin.     His 


AUGUSTINE  241 

apostles,  his  bishops  and  preachers,  were  likewise 
casters  out  of  demons,  bringers  of  sanity,  exorcisers: 
they  were  expelling  sin  and  demons  from  among 
men.  In  accordance  with  these  functions  of  its 
ministers,  the  Gospel  moved  in  the  power  of  love 
and  charity.  Those  accepting  it  formed  a  com- 
munity, devoted  to  its  transmission  and  to  the  care 
of  the  human  means  and  instruments.  Each 
community  provided  for  its  teachers,  for  its  widows 
and  orphans ;  for  the  sick,  for  slaves,  for  prisoners  in 
the  mines,  and  for  the  bodies  of  the  dead.  The 
Church,  moreover,  that  is,  the  universal  and  duly 
constituted  body  of  believers  acting  through  their 
ordained  representatives,  was  rapidly  becoming 
the  fountain-head  of  divine  power  on  earth.  For 
the  Church  possessed  the  authority  to  interpret 
and  declare  the  contents  of  the  faith  and  the  meaning 
of  the  Old  Testament,  with  its  proofs  of  Christ  and 
wealth  of  prototypal  institutions ;  also  the  authority 
not  only  to  interpret,  but  even  to  make,  the  New 
Testament,  by  establishing  its  canon;  and  finally 
the  authority  to  order  and  administer  the  Christian 
rites  of  baptism  and  the  Lord's  Supper,  which  were 
becoming  sacramental  mysteries,  and  to  which  other 
sacraments  were  soon  added.  The  sacramental 
ritual  grew  apace,  developing  what  was  Christian 
in  origin  and  adopting  unconsciously  much  from  the 
world  to  which  believers,  before  conversion,  had 
belonged.     Naturally  these  did  not  altogether  lay 


242  DELIVERANCE 

aside  their  former  intellectual  and  spiritual  habits 
on  becoming  Christians.  Dwelling  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  religious  emotion,  the  uncritical  souls  of 
these  early  Christians  were  fertile  receptacles  for 
superstitions  which,  wearing  new  masks  or  old,  were 
the  same  in  Christianity  and  paganism. 

Yet,  although  founded  on  concrete  revelation, 
and  representing  transmitted  authority,  and  feeding 
upon  superstitions,  the  Church,  which  was  the  body 
of  believers,  and  in  a  mystic  sense  the  body  of  Christ, 
also  admitted  reason  and  reasonableness,  as  a  co- 
ordinate determinant  of  its  rejections  and  accept- 
ances. The  Gospel  was  a  faith  with  all ;  with  some 
it  might  also  be  a  philosophy.  So,  just  as  the 
Church  accepted  superstitions  and  elements  of 
sacramental  magic  from  the  pagan  world,  it  also 
appropriated  its  knowledge  and  its  reason;  and 
soon  maintained,  in  self-justification,  that  pagan 
philosophy,  so  far  as  it  contained  elements  of  truth, 
received  them  from  the  Christian  God,  or  borrowed 
them  from  the  Scriptures.  The  believing  com- 
munities constituting  the  Church  of  Christ  made 
a  people  newly  set  apart  to  God ;  yet  they  conceived 
themselves  to  have  existed  from  the  beginning 
as  the  chosen  Israel  of  God,  the  human  vessel  of 
divine  truth.  Though  still  unrecognised  by  the 
Jews  and  the  pagan  multitude,  the  Church  had 
become  with  Origen,  in  the  third  century,  the  all- 
embracing  and  all-ordering  kingdom,  the  Koa-fios  tov 


AUGUSTINE  243 

KocrfjMv.^  With  Augustine,  in  greater  power,  it  is, 
had  always  been,  shall  always  be,  the  City  of  God. 

If  a  new  religion,  flung  into  the  world,  is  to  endure, 
it  must  remain  itself,  and  not  become  something 
else.  Yet  if  it  would  be  accepted  by  the  world, 
it  must  present  itself  in  intelligible  modes,  receive 
from  the  world  whatever  is  pertinent  and  not 
hostile  to  its  spirit,  and  adapt  itself  to  the  world 
in  matters  of  the  world  —  thus  rendering  unto 
Caesar  what  is  Caesar's.  While  it  cannot  be  eclectic, 
it  may  be  selective  and  synthetic. 

This  dual  need  of  self-preservation  and  adaptation 
to  the  world  pressed  upon  the  new-born  Christian 
faith.  In  meeting  it  the  Gospel's  energies  took  form 
in  three  phases  of  constructive  action  :  the  organisa- 
tion of  the  Christian  Church,  the  ordering  of  the 
Christian  life,  the  formulation  of  the  Christian 
faith.  They  are  not  to  be  too  sharply  distinguished 
in  treatment,  seeing  how  dynamically  interwoven 
in  their  action  were  these  phases  of  Christian  energy. 
A  vast  amount  of  learning  has  been  devoted  to  their 
elucidation. 

An  outer,  as  it  were,  secular  organisation  of  the 
Church  was  needed  for  the  preservation  and  regula- 
tion of  the  life  and  faith  of  the  Christian  communi- 
ties, and  even  for  the  maintenance  of  life  and  order, 
in  those  centuries  of  political  disintegration.     The 

1  Contra  Celsum,  viii,  Chapters  67-75,  cited  by  Harnack  in 
The  Mission  and  Extension  of  Christianity,  etc. 


244  DELIVERANCE 

Latin,  or  Roman,  Catholic  Church  (our  mind  is 
fixed  upon  the  West),  which  gradually  took  form  in 
response  to  this  need,  may  not  improperly  be  viewed 
as  the  final  creation  of  the  Roman  political  genius, 
though  its  creation  was  inspired  with  other  motives 
than  those  which  had  made  great  the  Republic 
and  the  Empire.  The  Church  was  the  embodiment 
of  Christian  unity  and  Christian  order,  of  Christ's 
divine  authority  on  earth,  of  fellowship  with  Christ 
and  participation  in  salvation.  The  authority 
which  Christ  was  recorded  to  have  delivered  to  the 
Apostles,  became  in  the  course  of  time  vested  in  the 
bishops  as  their  successors.  These  were  ranged 
under  their  metropolitans,  and  eventually  under 
the  bishop  of  Rome;  they  acted  corporately  in 
councils.  The  Church  was  intrusted  with  the 
ministration  of  the  Sacraments,  which  were  the 
means  of  grace,  the  vehicles  of  life,  without  which 
no  one  could  be  saved.  There  was,  therefore,  no 
salvation  without  the  Church :  Salus  extra  eccle- 
siam  non  est,  says  Cyprian.  Upon  this  conviction, 
and  its  own  grand  organisation,  the  Church  was 
to  hold  itself  erect  while  the  Empire  crumbled 
about  it. 

Obviously  the  organising  of  the  Church  and  its 
investment  with  authority  over  many  things  of  this 
world,  according  to  the  needs  of  an  earthly  society, 
could  not  but  result  in  its  partial  secularisation. 
The  springs  of  the  spirit,  inconveniently  vagrant 


AUGUSTINE  24s 

in  Apostolic  times,  were  gathered  to  ecclesiastic 
channels,  and  administered  through  sacerdotal 
conduits,  through  which  alone,  and  also  unfailingly, 
flowed  the  divine  grace.  In  conflict  with  the  revolt 
of  Montanist  enthusiasts,  in  the  late  second  century, 
the  Church  maintained  its  exclusive  official  authority 
over  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit ;  maintained,  as  well,  its 
authority  to  promulgate  Christian  doctrine  and 
order  Christian  life. 

The  need  of  an  authoritative  organ  to  declare, 
and  keep  declaring,  what  was  and  what  was  not 
Christian  doctrine,  had  promoted  the  organisation 
of  the  authoritative  Church.  The  rapid  encroach- 
ments of  a  semi-Christian  Gnosticism  in  the  second 
century  threatened  the  Gospel's  existence  as  a 
definite  fact  and  revelation.  In  order  to  combat 
Gnosticism,  throw  it  off",  and  keep  Christianity 
from  becoming  a  congeries  of  phantasies,  the  Church 
proclaimed  the  Apostolic  Creed  and  fixed  the 
Apostolic  Canon  of  the  New  Testament.  Next,  a 
reciprocally  correlated  conception  was  reached  (by 
Irenaeus)  of  the  Gospel  both  as  the  revealed  rule  of 
belief  and  conduct,  and  as  the  way  of  veritable 
transformation  of  corrupt  and  mortal  manhood 
through  the  spirit  of  Christ.  Under  the  former 
aspect,  eternal  life  would  appear  as  a  reward; 
under  the  latter,  it  was  a  supernatural  gift.  From 
these  broad  bases  the  formulation  of  dogma  pro- 
ceeded according  to  the  twofold  need  of  presenting 


246  DELIVERANCE 

the  Gospel  in  conformity  to  the  intellectual  in- 
sistencies of  the  Greco-Roman  world,  and  of  con- 
demning what  was  not  the  Gospel  and  could  not 
make  part  of  Christian  truth.  Accordingly  the 
doctrine  of  the  nature  of  Christ,  and  of  the  two 
natures  of  Christ,  divine  and  human,  was  worked 
out  with  infinite  toil  and  fierce  anathemas.  In  this 
central  field  of  Christian  dogma,  the  Church  argued 
in  the  categories  of  Greek  (mainly  Neoplatonic) 
philosophy ;  although,  in  the  Latin  West,  theologians 
also  employed  the  terminology  and  conceptions  of 
the  Roman  Law.  While  the  formulation  of  these 
dogmas  proceeded  largely  through  the  disavowal 
of  propositions  held  erroneous,  it  was  also  a  creative 
process,  resulting  in  the  establishment  of  positive 
propositions.  They  are  contained  in  the  Nicene 
Creed.  That  did  not  contravene  the  teaching 
either  of  Christ  or  the  Apostles,  and  held  to  the 
realities  of  the  Christian  Gospel.  It  was  a  necessary 
formulation  of  the  Gospel,  if  all  manner  of  pagan 
concepts  were  to  be  excluded.  Yet  it  was  not 
the  Gospel,  but  a  restatement  of  it  in  terms  of 
Greek  philosophy.  If  the  Creed  contradicted  many 
a  thesis  of  Greek  philosophy,  Greek  philosophy  had 
nevertheless  entered  its  structure.  As  touching 
these  dogmas,  the  Latin  West  followed  the  Hellenic 
East ;  but  of  itself  turned  to  a  more  intimate  wrest- 
ling with  the  problem  of  sin,  and  the  relations 
between  the  human  will  and  divine  grace ;  in  which 


AUGUSTINE  247 

struggle  he  who  proved  himself  the  orthodox  protag- 
onist was  Augustine. 

The  Church ;  dogma ;  the  Christian  life.  The  last 
was  builded  from  the  matter  of  its  own  living  appro- 
priation of  the  Faith,  and  yet  was  affected  by  the 
need  to  accept  or  reject  the  pagan  life  about  it.  It 
began  in  those  inspired  enthusiasms  of  the  new 
Faith,  when  the  recipients  of  the  Spirit  spoke  with 
tongues,  or  prophesied,  or  taught,  or  healed  with 
laying  on  of  hands.  If  there  were  dissensions, 
charity  also  overflowed.  The  widow,  the  fatherless, 
the  poor,  the  sick,  were  cared  for.  Abundant 
giving,  extending  even  to  the  abandonment  of  lands 
and  all  possessions,  marked  the  lives  of  the  believers, 
and  from  the  first  called  for  official  administration. 
As  Christianity  spread  among  the  Gentiles,  the 
converts  naturally  withdrew  from  pagan  worship 
and  from  festivals  or  ceremonies  involving  sacrifices 
or  recognition  of  the  pagan  gods ;  withdrew  also 
from  the  games  of  the  circus  and  gladiatorial  com- 
bats, which  shocked  the  newly  awakened  Christian 
conscience.  But  many  complicated  problems  rose 
for  believers :  what  trades  might  they  pursue,  or 
follow  what  professions,  when  pagan  practices 
and  observances  touched  the  whole  round  of  daily 
life  ?  Could  Christians  serve  in  the  army,  when 
the  military  oath  involved  recognition  of  the  Em- 
peror's divinity  ?  These  exigencies  might  be  met 
according  to  circumstances  and  individual  conviction. 


248  DELIVERANCE 

Profounder  dilemmas  were  involved  in  the  ques- 
tion of  the  pagan  literature  and  pagan  philosophy. 
Might  Christians  teach,  or  even  study,  that  profane 
literature  ?  This  was  never  answered  on  principle, 
but  was  solved  through  acquiescence  in  the  need  of 
education,  which  could  be  had  only  through  pagan 
books.  As  to  pagan  philosophy,  there  were  sharp 
divergences.  Some  would  have  none  of  it,  or  at 
least  so  proclaimed ;  but  it  was  as  necessary  as  the 
breath  of  life,  necessary  indeed  for  those  doctors 
who  would  state  the  Faith  in  terms  satisfying  to  their 
own  philosophically  educated  minds,  or  in  a  manner 
to  be  convincing  to  educated  pagans.  Neither  was 
this  problem  solved  on  principle,  but  was  worked 
out,  as  Jerome  and  Augustine  worked  it  out  through 
the  needs  of  their  lives  and  labours. 

An  even  more  ideal  question  —  beauty.  High- 
minded  Christians  sought  to  turn  from  the  lures  of 
sculptured  ivory  and  living  flesh  to  the  beauties 
of  the  Christian  spirit  —  the  beauty  of  the  soul 
and  God.  Plato  had  felt  and  thought  the  like 
before  them.  Connected  with  beauty  were  lust 
and  love,  which  offered  the  most  insistent  of  all 
problems.  Augustine  was  to  reach  a  solution 
filling  the  utmost  reaches  of  his  soul,  as  he  merged 
or  proportioned  human  loves  in  the  love  of  God. 
But,  before  him,  the  Christian  communities  had 
gone  far  toward  setting  the  virgin  state  above  the 
married,  and  toward  demanding  celibacy  of  bishops 


AUGUSTINE  249 

and  presbyters ;  while  the  most  prodigious  solution  of 
this  problem,  the  Christian  working  answer  to  the 
plea  for  severance  from  the  lusts  of  paganism  and  the 
sinful  world,  had  been  given  in  the  hermit  lives  of 
hundreds  of  imitators  of  St.  Anthony,  and  in  the 
even  mightier  commencements  of  corporate  monasti- 
cism. 

Did  the  hot  sun  of  western  Northern  Africa 
breed  fiery,  sensual,  and  spiritually  grasping  tempera- 
ments ?  It  was  an  eager,  even  violent  land.  The 
people  who  were  not  Christians  held  ardently  to 
their  religions,  hating  the  Christians  who  stood  aloof 
from  long-cherished  practices.  Nowhere  else  was 
persecution  so  fiercely  called  for  by  the  pagan  popu- 
lation. On  their  side,  the  Christians  were  fervent. 
The  martyrs  passed  to  the  arena  with  devoted 
constancy.  Montanism  had  come  originally  from 
Phrygia;  but  that  unmanageable,  irreconcilable 
form  of  Christianity  flourished  nowhere  as  in  Africa. 
There  it  denounced  the  worldliness,  and  scorned  the 
authority,  of  the  Church,  itself  spurning  all  adapta- 
tion to  the  world.  And  there  Tertullian,  greatest 
of  Christian  advocates  and  of  Latin  theologians 
before  Augustine,  became  a  Montanist  through  his 
headstrong  ardour  and  tenacious  egotism. 

Augustine  was  African  by  birth  and  breeding. 
He  was  a  man  of  passion  and  desire,  of  restless 
temper,  gifted  with   an  analytic  and  constructive 


250  DELIVERANCE 

mind,  and  destined,  under  the  impulsion  of  Christian- 
ity, to  prove  a  spiritual  genius.  He  was  loving  and 
devoted,  and  yet  a  constraining  egotism  marshalled 
his  faculties,  impelled  and  informed  their  action, 
and  drove  him  on  to  the  giving  of  himself  to  God 
or  rather  to  the  winning  of  God.  From  his  youth 
he  had  thought  on  his  ultimate  adjustment  with  life ; 
and  he  became  ever  more  interested,  if  not  absorbed, 
in  reaching  some  assurance,  even  an  assurance  of 
salvation.  No  small  subjective  satisfaction  could 
accord  with  his  largeness  of  mind.  Assurance  of 
his  personal  salvation  must  include  the  final  settle- 
ment of  his  opinions,  convictions  as  they  became, 
regarding  everything  of  salient  import  for  human 
destiny.  It  was  a  necessity  of  his  nature  to  bring 
his  thoughts  on  God  and  man  and  all  things  into  a 
religious  unison,  wherein  they  should  work  to- 
gether for  the  assurance  of  the  soul's  salvation.  If 
in  his  Soliloquies,  near  the  time  of  his  conversion, 
he  desired  to  know  only  God  and  the  soul,  it  was 
because  his  previous  thoughts  had  resolved  every- 
thing of  vital  interest  for  man  into  the  relationship 
between  the  soul  and  God. 

Primarily  and  always,  Augustine  sought  his  peace 
—  in  God.  But  as  he  reached  the  first  stage  of 
certitude  in  his  conversion,  his  energies  expanded, 
and  took  form  in  labours  to  complete  his  own  salva- 
tion, and,  through  a  vindication  of  true  doctrine, 
safeguard    the    faith    of  the    Church.     Henceforth 


AUGUSTINE  251 

the  arguments  with  which  he  maintained  Christian 
truth  and  the  Church's  authority  against  Mani- 
chaeans,  against  pagans,  against  Donatists  and 
Pelagians,  served  likewise  to  substantiate  and  perfect 
the  peace  which  he  had  won.  For  that  peace 
could  be  secured  only  through  a  spiritual  progress 
which  should  include  theoverthrowof  every  threaten- 
ing argument,  and  the  settlement  of  the  problems 
pressing  on  the  soul. 

There  is  universal  significance  in  the  course  taken 
by  Augustine's  adjustment,  in  the  manner,  if  one 
will,  of  his  working  himself  out  of  previous  insufficient 
adjustments  till  he  found  refuge  in  the  Christian 
God,  —  a  refuge  which  he  was  to  make  large  enough 
for  all.  For  the  universality  of  his  desiring  and  in- 
vestigating nature  led  him  on  through  all  the  stages 
by  which,  before  the  time  of  his  conversion,  the 
Church  had  won  its  triumph  over  the  passion  and 
the  reason  of  the  heathen  world,  and  also  had 
kept  itself  the  true  Church  of  Christ.  But  Augus- 
tine's adjustment  will  lead  further  still.  For, 
living  when  many  a  searching  Christian  question 
was  unsettled,  through  one  and  the  same  series  of 
intellectual,  or,  rather,  spiritual,  achievements, 
he  perfected  his  deliverance  and  completed  Christian 
doctrine. 

A  general  knowledge  of  Augustine's  life  may  be 
assumed.  Recently  a  charming  book  has  been 
made  of  it:    Saint  Augustin,  by  Louis   Bertrand. 


252  DELIVERANCE 

One  may  say  that  he  did  not  cease  to  be  pagan  in 
his  mode  of  life  until  he  had  become  Christian  in 
his  convictions.  Only  thus  was  he  freed  from  lusts 
of  the  flesh,  and  from  a  manner  of  living  ministering 
to  them  in  a  moderate  degree.  It  is  to  our  purpose 
to  follow  the  mental  steps  leading  him  from  one 
and  another  opinion  not  in  accord  with  Christianity. 
For  each  of  these  opinions  represented  an  obstacle 
to  the  acceptance  of  Christianity,  and  at  the  same 
time  a  section  of  the  path  leading  to  it. 

Certain  elementary  Christian  lessons  of  his  child- 
hood were  never  quite  forgotten.  They  seem  to 
have  left  a  wavering  longing  or  affection  in  his  mind 
for  the  wonderful  figure  of  the  Saviour ;  the  name 
of  Jesus  was  always  sweet  to  him.  And  yet  it  was 
but  as  a  fugitive  sound  to  hark  back  to,  —  as  with  a 
hound  that  is  worried,  having  lost  the  scent.  His 
school  education  at  first  had  no  religious  bearing; 
but  gradually  became  pagan  in  its  influence,  as  he 
progressed  in  grammar  and  rhetoric  and  the  study  of 
the  profane  literature  which  made  the  medium  of 
these  disciplines.  Evidently  his  reading  of  Cicero's 
Hortensius,  with  its  alluring  persuasions  toward 
philosophy,  made  a  deep  impression,  to  judge  from 
his  frequent  mention  of  it.  His  reading  it  may  have 
been  an  awakening.  In  after  life,  he  said  it  turned 
his  prayers  toward  God,  and  filled  him  with  longing 
for  wisdom,  which  is  with  God.  The  book  pleased 
him  especially  since  it  held  no  brief  for  any  sect, 


AUGUSTINE  253 

but  rather  enkindled  within  him  the  loving  quest  of 
wisdom.  It  lacked  one  thing  which  had  touched 
his  heart,  the  name  of  Christ.  And  still  the  Scrip- 
tures themselves,  because  of  their  humble  guise, 
repelled  the  young  rhetorician  {Conf.  iii,  4  and  5). 

He  heard  that  name  indeed  in  the  vain  mouthings 
of  the  Manichaeans,  as  he  said  afterwards;  and 
partly  with  that  lure  they  drew  him  to  their  sect. 
Probably  the  impression  of  the  evil  and  the  suffering 
in  the  world,  and  his  lack  of  philosophic  enlighten- 
ment, made  his  mind  a  guest-chamber  for  their 
opinions ;  which  were  full  of  fantastic  fables,  and 
heavy  with  material  views  of  God.  At  the  same 
time  he  was  painfully  stumbling  over  the  Old  Testa- 
ment narratives,  of  patriarchs  with  many  wives,  and 
commended  by  the  mouth  of  God,  although  their 
conduct  was  such  as  men  no  longer  could  approve; 
for  he  did  not  then  comprehend  the  righteousness 
which  always  is  the  same,  and  yet  may  ordain  what 
is  suitable  only  for  a  certain  time  {Conf.  iii,  7) ; 
nor  had  he  learned,  as  afterwards  from  Ambrose,  to 
interpret  the  Old  Testament  "spiritaliter"  in  its 
allegorical  truth.  If  he  only  could  have  "con- 
ceived spiritual  substance,"  he  would  quickly  have 
thrown  out  the  Manichaean  arguments  {Conf.  v,  14). 

So  in  those  years  of  his  early  manhood  at  Carthage 
he  kept  company  with  the  Manichaeans,  and  also 
dallied  with  the  Mathematici  (astrologers),  thinking 
well  of  them   because  they  neither  sacrificed  nor 


254  DELIVERANCE 

prayed  to  any  spirit  to  direct  their  divinations.  He 
did  not  realise  the  folly  of  their  doctrine  that  a  man's 
sin  or  sinlessness  is  fixed  by  the  stars.  A  certain 
wise  physician  pointed  out  to  him  the  deceit,  or  at 
most  haphazard  agreement,  of  their  vain  prognostica- 
tions, —  and  yet  he  clung  to  them,  for  want  of  a  sure 
refutation. 

It  was  also  in  these  Carthaginian  years  that  the 
death  of  a  friend  showed  him  the  futility  of  "spilling 
his  soul  upon  the  sand  in  loving  that  which  was 
mortal  as  if  it  were  not,"  —  a  first  lesson  in  the  dis- 
cipline which  directs  the  mind  toward  the  love  of  God 
and  the  love  of  men  in  God.  Although  he  deemed 
beauty  to  be  the  chief  element  of  the  lovable,  the 
lower  forms  of  beauty  held  his  thoughts.  Num 
amamus  aliquid  nisi  pulchrum,  exclaimed  his 
sensuous  or  aesthetic  nature;  while  his  questing 
spirit  asked  what  is  beauty  ?  what  is  this  which 
draws  us  to  the  things  we  love  ?  He  made  his  first 
essay  on  authorship,  with  a  book  upon  this  subject, 
entitled  "de  pulchro  et  apto,"  "The  beautiful  and 
fit."  In  later  life  he  looked  back  upon  this  book 
through  the  altered  perspective  of  maturer  thoughts  : 
"But  I  saw  not  yet  the  essential  matter  in  thy  art. 
Almighty  One,  who  alone  makest  marvellous  things ; 
and  my  mind  was  going  through  corporeal  forms; 
and  I  was  defining  and  distinguishing  what  was 
beautiful  in  itself,  what  was  fit,  and  what  gains  grace 
through    adaptation    to    something;      and    I    was 


AUGUSTINE  255 

furnishing  my  argument  with  corporeal  illustrations. 
Also  I  turned  me  to  the  nature  of  the  soul,  and  the 
false  view  I  had  of  spiritual  substances  did  not  per- 
mit me  to  perceive  the  truth.  ...  I  was  averting 
my  mind  from  the  incorporeal  thing  toward  linea- 
ments and  colors  and  swelling  magnitudes,  and 
because  I  could  not  find  them  in  the  soul,  I  thought 
I  could  not  see  my  soul.  And  since  in  virtue  I 
loved  peace,  and  in  vice  hated  discord,  I  saw  unity 
in  the  one  and  division  in  the  other;  and  the  ra- 
tional mind  as  well  as  the  essence  of  truth  and  of 
the  summum  honum  seemed  set  in  that  unity,  while 
in  that  division  I  deemed  there  dwelt  I  know  not 
what  substance  of  irrational  life,  an  essential  sum- 
mum  malum  —  not  only  substance  but  life,  and  yet 
not  dependent  on  thee,  my  God,  from  whom  are 
all  things"  {Conf.  iv,  15). 

Some  years  before,  he  had  been  given  the  Cate- 
gories of  Aristotle,  which  he  first  gaped  at  as  some- 
thing divine,  then  quickly  mastered,  but  only  to 
find  little  help ;  since  he  could  not  imagine  that  the 
attributes  of  God  were  in  God  as  in  a  subject,  seeing 
that  God  is  each  of  his  attributes  — as  his  magnitude, 
his  beauty.  Perhaps  Augustine's  dissatisfaction 
with  the  little  Aristotelian  masterpiece  was  a  stage 
in  his  approach  to  more  spiritual  thoughts  of  God ; 
but  not  till  long  afterwards  did  he  learn  to  know 
that  beauty,  which  God  was,  from  which  the  creature 
beauties  had  so  long  kept  him. 


256  DELIVERANCE 

The  approach  of  his  thirtieth  year  found  him  still 
in  Carthage,  but  very  restless.  Why  not  try  his 
fortune  as  a  professor  of  rhetoric  in  Rome  ?  He  set 
sail,  with  letters  from  the  Manichaeans  of  Carthage, 
although  he  no  longer  approved  their  doctrines. 
In  Rome  he  realised  that  he  and  they  must  soon 
part  company;  though  he  still  had  not  freed  him- 
self from  the  thought  of  God  as  material  substance, 
nor  from  conceiving  evil  as  a  substance  gross  as 
earth  or  thin  as  air,  yet  always  some  sort  of  bulk  or 
body,  which  the  good  God  could  not  have  created. 
He  still  thought  that  God  was  limited  and  finite  in 
relation  to  evil.  He  imagined  the  Saviour  as  issu- 
ing (porrectum)  from  a  mass  of  the  brightest  divine 
substance ;  —  how  could  he  have  been  born  of  the 
Virgin  and  not  have  suffered  defilement  as  part  of 
her  flesh  .? 

Amidst  these  doubts,  his  mind  turned  naturally 
to  the  chief  advocates  of  philosophic  doubt,  the 
Academics  —  Carneades  and  others  belonging  to  the 
later  Academy  called  of  Plato.  They  seemed  the 
wisest  in  holding  all  things  to  be  in  doubt,  because 
of  man's  inability  to  know  the  truth. 

In  this  state  of  mind,  looking  for  adjustment 
and  assurance,  and  yet  not  unhappy  in  the  play  of 
philosophic  doubt,  Augustine  accepted  a  call  to  fill 
the  city  chair  of  Rhetoric  in  Milan ;  it  was  in  the 
year  384,  and  he  was  still  but  thirty  years  of  age. 
Milan  was  the  usual  residence  of  the  imperial  court. 


AUGUSTINE  257 

then  Catholic.  The  town  was  Christian,  with  sym- 
pathies torn  between  Catholics  and  Arians;  and 
there  Ambrose  was  bishop.  On  his  arrival,  Augus- 
tine openly  shook  off  Manichaean  affiliations,  and 
resumed  the  position  of  a  Christian  catechumen; 
for  as  such  his  mother  had  inscribed  him  when  a 
child.  He  lost  no  time  in  paying  his  respects  to 
Ambrose,  his  admiration  for  whom  was  soon  to 
deepen  into  reverence. 

This  is  the  period  of  Augustine's  "Conversion," 
touching  which  there  is  the  later  devotional  testi- 
mony of  his  Confessions.  But  earlier  works,  written 
at  the  time,  indicate  a  different  mood,  and  disclose 
the  philosophic  questions  then  busying  his  mind. 
The  Confessions  are  not  Wahrheit  und  Dichtung; 
but  they  are  Wahrheit  and  piety.  Ten  years  of 
thought  and  study,  of  Hving  and  feeling,  had  elapsed 
since  he  left  Milan  a  baptised  Christian.  During 
those  years,  his  convictions  had  grown  surer  and 
more  definite,  had  become  vibrant  with  emotion, 
and  Augustine  had  acquired  the  habit  of  devout 
expression.  The  devoutness  of  those  Confessions, 
and  their  power  of  feeling,  scarcely  made  part  of  his 
nature  in  the  more  inchoate  period  of  his  faith. 
Yet  they  do  not  contradict,  so  much  as  supplement, 
the  earlier  writings,  which  by  reason  of  their  tenta- 
tive as  well  as  academic  character  scantily  expressed 
the  emotional  crises  of  that  time. 

The  character  of  Ambrose  drew  Augustine  toward 


2S8  DELIVERANCE 

the  Catholic  fold.  He  listened  to  his  preaching 
diligently.  He  learned  from  it  the  method  of 
spiritual,  that  is  to  say,  allegorical  interpretation 
of  the  Old  Testament  —  its  hard  places,  which 
"when  I  had  taken  them  literally,  I  was  killed  — 
occidebar."  Littera  occidit,  the  letter  killeth  —  that 
he  now  learned,  and  was  to  understand  in  time  how 
the  spirit  maketh  to  live.  This  method  of  inter- 
pretation cleared  his  mind  of  any  lingering  regard 
for  the  arguments  which  the  Manichaeans  brought 
against  the  Church.  But  he  inclined  the  more 
strongly  toward  certain  of  the  Greek  philosophers, 
and  yet  "could  not  commit  the  cure  of  his  soul's 
languor  to  them,  because  they  were  without  the 
healing  name  of  Christ."  This  languor  of  the  half 
dilettante  pagan  soul  was,  in  fact,  vigorously  expelled 
by  the  energy  of  the  Christian  faith,  when  that  had 
entered  Augustine. 

The  months  passed,  Augustine  filling  the  duties 
of  his  professorship ;  studying  also  and  constantly 
turning  over  in  his  mind,  or  discussing  with  friends 
from  Africa,  the  opinions  of  the  different  philosophers. 
He  was  still  held  by  the  comforts  and  pleasures  of 
the  flesh,  and  but  for  his  belief  in  a  life  after  death, 
would  even  have  awarded  the  palm  of  the  ethical 
discussion  to  Epicurus  {Conf.  vi,  i6).  He  had 
put  from  him  anthropomorphic  conceptions  of  God, 
and  yet  could  not  conceive  him  as  incorporeal ;  but 
rather  as  something  corporeal  infused  in  the  world 


AUGUSTINE  259 

and  diffused  boundlessly  about  it,  always  incor- 
ruptible and  unchangeable:  "So  that  the  earth 
should  have  Thee,  and  the  heaven  have  Thee,  and 
all  things  be  bounded  in  Thee,  and  Thou  nowhere 
bounded"  {Conf.  vii,  i).  Still  the  problem  of 
evil  plagued  him  —  as  he  set  himself  to  understand 
how  that  man's  free  will  (liberum  voluntatis  arbit- 
rium)  was  the  cause  of  our  evil-doing  and  God's 
just  judgement.  But  how  then  ?  did  not  the  good 
God  make  him,  and  that  will  of  his  which  preferred 
evil  ?  then  why  should  he  be  punished  ?  And 
he  began  to  imagine  the  creation  vast  and  mani- 
fold, and  yet  finite,  with  God  surrounding  and 
penetrating  it,  everywhere  infinite  —  as  an  infinite 
sea  holding  and  everywhere  penetrating  a  huge 
though  finite  sponge.  Where,  then,  in  such  a  uni- 
verse made  by  omnipotent  goodness,  could  there  be 
evil  ?     He  was  sore  perplexed. 

Yet,  at  least  he  was  able  to  throw  off  all  credence 
in  the  horoscopes  cast  by  the  mathematici,  astrolo- 
gers. (Thus  had  such  godless  superstitions  clung 
to  him  !)  For  he  considered  seriously  how  different 
were  the  fortunes  even  of  twins,  and  others  born 
at  the  same  instant.  And  still  he  could  find  no 
outcome  to  the  problem,  whence  is  evil  ?  God  alone, 
and  no  man,  knew  how  he  was  afflicted  with  it ! 

He  was  to  gain  light  from  the  works  of  the  Greek 
Neoplatonists,  translated  (for  Augustine  could 
read  but  little  Greek)  by  a  rhetorician  and  philoso- 


26o  DELIVERANCE 

pher  named  C.  Marius  Victorinus,  who  in  the  end 
had  himself  become  a  Christian  (cf.  Conf.  viii,  2). 
It  seemed  to  him  afterwards  that  the  hand  of  God 
had  given  him  these  books.  He  learned  from  them, 
although  in  different  words,  and  set  forth  with  many 
reasons,  that  "in  the  beginning  was  the  Word  and 
the  Word  was  with  God  and  God  was  the  Word : 
this  was  in  the  beginning  with  God :  all  things 
were  made  through  him"  —  in  fine,  he  learned  the 
teachings  of  the  "prologue"  to  John's  Gospel. 
"There  also  I  read  that  the  Word,  God,  was  born 
not  of  flesh,  nor  of  blood,  nor  of  the  will  of  man, 
but  of  God;  but  that  the  Word  was  made  flesh, 
and  dwelt  among  us,  I  did  not  read  there."  Save 
for  this  omission,  Augustine  drew  from  those  books, 
or  read  into  them,  substantially  the  Christian  Gos- 
pel —  put  in  other  words. 

One  need  not  cavil  at  Augustine's  assimilation  of 
Neoplatonism  with  the  Christianity  of  the  fourth 
century.  The  two  had  many  common  sources  and 
many  similarities,  —  Neoplatonism  and  its  doc- 
trine of  the  One,  the  Nous,  and  the  Soul,  with 
Christianity  and  its  Trinity.  Both  systems 
answered,  though  with  unequal  efficacy,  to  the  re- 
Hgious  needs  of  educated  men.  Over  such  stepping- 
stones  thousands  had  travelled  and  still  were 
travelling  to  Christ.  Augustine,  by  dint  of  his  Neo- 
platonic  studies,  won  through  to  the  conception  of 
God  as  spirit  —  to  the  conviction  indeed  that  God 


AUGUSTINE  261 

is  spirit:  irvcv/wa  6  6e6s.  The  view  that  evil  was 
not  substance,  but  privation,  also  began  to  dawn 
on  him.  But  Neoplatonism  lacked  the  clear  and 
lovable  realisation  of  the  divine,  which  Christianity 
possessed  in  Christ;  and  Augustine,  like  many 
others,  kept  on  toward  that  with  his  arms  out- 
stretched. 

One  of  the  wonders  of  the  Gospel  is  that  its  chief 
stumbling-block  to  thoughtful  minds  is  also  the  net 
by  which  it  captures  souls,  and  holds  them  fast 
when  taken :  to  wit,  the  Incarnation,  —  God  be- 
came Man,  the  Word  became  Flesh,  and  dwelt  among 
us.  It  was  this  that  Neoplatonism  neither  had, 
nor  could  explain  or  assent  to.  The  thought  pre- 
sented intellectual  difficulties  almost  insurmount- 
able. Yet  the  figure  of  Christ,  his  office  as  Media- 
tor, his  saving  might  as  Saviour,  drew  men  with 
all  the  cords  of  anxiety  and  hope  and  dawning  love. 
To  accept  him  thus,  was  to  cease  to  be  a  Neo- 
platonist  and  become  a  Christian.  And  this 
Christ,  when  once  accepted  by  the  believer's  mind, 
and  taken  to  his  heart,  became  the  fulness  of  certi- 
tude, the  blessedness  of  salvation,  the  ecstasy  of 
love.  The  whole  mind  and  heart  of  man  was 
drawn  in  faith  to  the  divine  man  Christ,  and  through 
him  on  to  God,  realised  in  Christ  as  love  as  well  as 
power;  whom  for  man  to  know  and  love  is  to  be 
saved,  and  in  whom  is  man's  delight  for  ever. 

Augustine  was  led  on  by  the  books  of  the  Neo- 


262  DELIVERANCE 

platonists  to  think  of  God  as  incorporeal,  and  seek 
him  as  the  incorporeal  truth.  Yet  they  could  not 
bring  him  the  stable  enjoyment  of  this  spiritually 
conceived  object  of  his  thought,  which  should  be 
as  well  the  object  of  his  entire  devotion.  The 
strength  to  rest  in  the  thoughts  and  love  of  God, 
as  Augustine  knew  later,  could  be  had  only  in  and 
through  "the  mediator  of  God  and  men,  the  man 
Christ  Jesus."  But  as  yet  he  thought  of  Jesus 
only  as  a  man  of  excellent  wisdom,  and  could  not 
grasp  the  mystery  of  the  Word  made  flesh. 

He  began  to  study  the  Epistles  of  Paul;  and  in 
them  he  found  disclosed  the  mystery  of  the  law  in 
his  members  warring  against  the  law  of  God  after 
the  inner  man,  the  flesh  lusting  against  the  spirit; 
and  learned  that  from  this  conflict,  the  body  of  this 
death,  the  one  deliverance  was  the  grace  of  God 
through  Jesus  Christ.  Only  through  the  grace  of 
God  in  Christ  could  he  reach  that  peace  and  stable 
power  of  abiding  in  the  love  and  knowledge  and  joy 
of  God. 

He  was  now  minded  to  become  a  Christian,  and 
one  day  was  sharply  pricked  at  hearing  the  story 
of  the  life  of  St.  Anthony.  The  impulses  toward 
Christ  gathering  in  his  soul  moved  him  with  power. 
Their  action  is  set  in  a  dramatic  scene  in  which  his 
bosom's  friend  Alypius  is  a  silent  actor.  "What 
are  we  about,"  he  cried.  "The  unlearned  storm 
heaven  before  us,  while  we  wallow  in  flesh  and  blood." 


AUGUSTINE  263 

He  went  out  from  his  house,  into  the  little  attached 
garden,  followed  by  his  friend.  His  mind  was  in  a 
storm.  If  he  could  only  end  the  war  between  the 
world's  desires  and  his  higher  consecration !  He 
broke  into  tears,  and  moving  away  from  his  won- 
dering friend,  cast  himself  down,  weeping,  beneath 
a  fig  tree.  It  was  not  long  before  a  voice  was  heard 
saying  "take  and  read";  and  remembering  that 
Anthony  had  been  inspired  from  hearing  a  Gospel 
passage,  Augustine  returned  to  where  he  had  left 
the  volume  of  Paul's  writings  by  the  side  of  his 
friend,  opened  and  read,  "  not  in  rioting  and  drunken- 
ness, not  in  chambering  and  wantonness,  not  in 
strife  and  envying;  but  put  ye  on  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  make  not  provision  for  the  flesh  in  con- 
cupiscentiis."  He  showed  the  passage  to  his  friend 
—  they  knew  each  other's  hearts.  Alypius  read 
further:  "Him  that  is  weak  in  faith,  receive"; 
which  he  applied  to  his  own  case.  The  two  entered 
the  house,  and  told  all  to  Augustine's  mother,  who 
exulted  and  rejoiced.  "For  Thou  didst  turn  me 
to  Thee,  so  that  I  no  longer  sought  for  a  wife ;  nor 
any  hope  in  this  world." 

Not  long  after  this,  Augustine  gave  up  his  public 
professorship,  and  with  his  mother  and  sundry 
close  friends  retired  to  the  seclusion  of  a  little  villa 
near  Milan.  There  together  they  led  —  he  as  their 
master  —  a  life  of  academic  intercourse  and  de- 
votional meditation.     Augustine  spent  much  of  his 


264  DELIVERANCE 

time  inditing  philosophic  dialogues  —  the  early 
writings  before  alluded  to.  The  discussions  in  them, 
after  the  manner  of  the  time,  had  nothing  to  do 
with  exact  knowledge,  but  rather  circled  round  and 
round  the  problems  of  man's  happiness,  his  im- 
mortality, and  God's  providence.  Such  topics  en- 
grossed the  thoughts  of  spiritually  minded  pagans 
who  were  seeking  "truth,"  or  rather  their  salvation, 
and  were  inclining  toward  the  assurances  of  Chris- 
tianity. 

Thus,  in  "three  books,"  De  Academicis  or  Contra 
AcademicoSy  Augustine  takes  up  the  arguments  of 
those  philosophic  doubters,  and  discusses  whether 
the  search  for  truth,  without  its  attainment,  can 
make  one  wise  and  happy ;  also  what  is  error,  what 
is  wisdom,  what  is  probable,  and  what  is  true ;  the 
opinions  of  a  number  of  philosophers  are  considered. 
He  was  composing  at  the  same  time  his  De  heata 
FitUy  showing  that  one  cannot  be  happy  when  he 
has  not  what  he  wishes,  and  that  no  one  is  sapiens 
who  is  not  heatus.  With  such  arguments  Augustine 
gently  pushed  himself  along  toward  a  Christian 
conclusion,  that  the  blessed  life  consists  in  the  rever- 
ent knowledge  of  the  Truth  and  the  full  fruition  of 
it.  At  that  time  he  also  wrote  his  De  Ordiney  on 
the  divine  providence;  in  which  a  reference  to  his 
praying  in  tears  —  illacrymans  —  shows  that  the 
Christian  impulse  was  moving  him  emotionally. 
As  likewise  appears  in  his   Soliloquies,  a  book  of 


AUGUSTINE 


265 


devotional  reason  written  at  the  same  time,  where, 
often  Platonically,  he  discusses  the  two  things  he 
desires  to  know,  God  and  the  soul.  It  may  be  added 
that  his  letters  as  yet  show  little  that  is  specifically 
Christian.  On  his  return  to  Milan,  he  wrote  upon 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  afterwards  (387- 
389)  composed  six  books  of  academic  instruction, 
De  Musica,  chiefly  upon  versification. 

In  this  country  retreat,  Augustine  had  also  en- 
deavoured to  instruct  himself  in  the  Scriptures,  by 
studying  Isaiah  upon  the  advice  of  Ambrose.  He 
was  quietly  baptised  at  the  Easter  celebration  in 
the  year  387,  his  son  Adeodatus  and  his  friend 
Alypius  with  him.  After  which  it  was  decided  to 
return  to  Africa;  and  the  little  company  journeyed 
by  slow  stages  to  take  ship  at  Ostia,  where  Monica, 
his  mother,  died.  It  was  there  that  Augustine  and 
his  mother,  gazing  from  a  window,  and  discoursing 
on  the  things  of  God,  were  rapt  in  an  ecstasy  of 
contemplation,  to  which  Christian  souls  do  ever 
and  anon  attain,  but  which  as  Augustine  narrates 
it,  was  quite  as  Neoplatonic  as  Christian.  When 
his  mother  was  dead,  he  fell  to  praying  for  her  soul, 
as  was  the  custom  in  the  Church. 

The  stages  of  Augustine's  conversion  were  affected 
by  his  personal  equation,  and  impressed  with  his 
individuality.  Perhaps  they  do  not  reflect  directly 
the  general  course  of  conflict  with  the  various 
phases  of  paganism,    from  which  Christianity  had 


266  DELIVERANCE 

emerged  triumphant.  Augustine  set  forth  that 
conflict,  which  was  also  his,  more  universally  in  the 
first  ten  books  of  the  City  of  God.  There,  in  the 
name  of  Christianity,  he  first  refuted  the  belief  that 
the  heathen  gods  helped  their  worshippers  effectively 
to  the  good  things  of  this  world,  and  then  the 
opinion  that  their  power  was  salutary  for  the  life 
to  come.  He  also  showed  that  neither  fortune  nor 
the  position  of  the  stars  was  the  cause  of  the  power 
of  the  Roman  Empire.  Afterwards  he  took  up  that 
most  difficult  contest  of  the  Faith  with  the  theology 
of  those  Greek  philosophers  who  agreed  that  God 
existed  and  had  a  care  for  men,  yet  were  not  satisfied 
with  worshipping  him  alone  in  order  to  obtain  eternal 
life,  but  must  also  practise  the  cult  of  many  gods 
besides.  They  recognised  God  as  above  the  Soul, 
the  creator  of  it  and  of  the  earth  and  all  things 
visible;  also  that  the  rational  principle  (to  which 
genus  the  human  soul  belongs)  is  blessed  by  par- 
ticipation in  his  unchangeable  and  incorporeal  light. 
They  were  called  Platonists  after  the  name  of 
Plato. 

So  Augustine  brings  Christianity  triumphant  out 
from  the  herd  of  polytheistic  opinions,  and  finally 
vindicates  its  truth  in  distinction  even  from  the 
views  of  Plato  (or  of  Plotinus  and  Porphyry)  who 
held  that  beatitude  lay  not  in  bodily  enjoyment,  or 
even  in  the  enjoyment  of  mind,  but  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  God.     "  Plato  calls  God  the  true  and  highest 


AUGUSTINE  267 

good,  and  will  have  it  that  the  philosopher  is  a  lover 
of  God,  and  since  philosophy  makes  for  the  blessed 
life,  the  enjoyer  of  God  is  that  happy  one  who  has 
loved  God"  {Civ.  Dei,  viii,  8). 

As  against  views  so  closely  approximating  to  its 
highest  truths,  Augustine  could  vindicate  the  Faith 
only  through  that  Way  by  which  he  himself  had 
come,  —  the  name  and  function  and  dual  nature  of 
Christ.  Only  through  Christ  can  one  come  to  the 
true  knowledge  and  the  steadfast  love  and  fruition 
of  God.  Says  Augustine  in  the  Civitas  Dei:  "In 
qua  ut  fidentius  ambularet  ad  veritatem,  ipsa  Veri- 
tas, Deus  Dei  filius,  homine  adsumto,  non  Deo 
consumto,  eandem  constituit  et  fundavit  fidem,  ut 
ad  hominis  Deum  iter  esset  homini  per  hominem 
Deum.  Hie  est  enim  mediator  Dei  et  hominum, 
homo  Christus  lesus.  Per  hoc  enim  mediator,  per 
quod  homo,  per  hoc  et  via.  Quoniam  si  inter  eum 
qui  tendit  et  illud  quo  tendit  via  media  est,  spes  est 
perveniendi;  si  autem  desit  aut  ignoretur  qua 
eundem  sit,  quid  prodest  nosse  quo  eundum  sit  ? 
Sola  est  autem  adversus  omnes  errores  via  muni- 
tissima,  ut  idem  sit  Deus  et  homo ;  quo  itur  Deus, 
qua  itur  homo."  ^ 

^  "In  order  that  the  mind  might  advance  more  confidently 
toward  the  truth,  the  Truth  itself,  God  the  Son  of  God,  manhood 
assumed,  deity  not  destroyed,  established  and  found  d  this  faith, 
that  to  man's  god  there  might  be  a  way  for  man  through  man  god. 
This  is  the  Mediator  of  God  and  men,  the  man  Christ  Jesus. 
For  in  that  he  is  man  he  is  mediator  and  also  the  way.     Since  if 


268  DELIVERANCE 

Thus  with  final  orthodoxy,  the  Doctor  of  the 
Church  speaks  for  the  universal  Church;  for  him- 
self he  had  said  that  he  could  not  abide  with  the 
Platonists  because  within  their  doctrines  he  had  not 
found  "ilia  aedificans  caritas  a  fundamento  hu- 
militatis,  quod  est  Christus  Jesus"   (Conf.  vii,  20). 

In  attempting  now  to  indicate  the  adjustment, 
the  joy  and  the  assurance  of  salvation  which  Augus- 
tine won,  it  will  not  be  necessary,  nor  would  it  be 
possible,  to  explore  the  broad  regions  of  spiritual 
development  through  which  his  rich  nature  diffused 
itself.  All  writers  upon  Augustine  have  found  the 
man  and  his  work,  and  his  suggestiveness,  to  exceed 
the  compass  of  their  power  of  formulation  —  and  so 
did  the  medieval  Church!  Even  an  attempt  to 
outline  the  manner  of  his  peace  is  a  presumption, 
so  far  does  the  vast  testimony  of  his  works  exceed 
the  power  of  our  sifting.  One  may  be  permitted  to 
note  the  seemingly  indicative  points. 

Augustine's  chief  intellectual  difficulties  had  been 
to  conceive  the  spiritual  nature  of  God,  and  realise 
that  evil  was  not  substance,  but  privation  or  vitia- 
tion :  "  Omnis  natura,  etiamsi  vitiosa  est,  in  quantum 
natura  est,  bona  est;   in  quantum  vitiosa  est,  mala 

between  him  who  goes  and  the  whither  he  goes,  there  leads  a  way, 
there  is  hope  of  arrival.  But  if  the  way  is  wanting  or  he  does  not 
know  how  to  travel  it,  what  help  is  there  in  knowing  whither  he 
must  go  ?  Now  the  only  way  fortified  against  error  is  when  the 
same  person  is  at  once  God  and  man  —  God  as  the  goal,  man  as 
the  way  "  {Civ.  Dei,  xi,  2). 


AUGUSTINE  269 

est"  (Enchiridion,  13).  These  difficulties  sur- 
mounted, then  through  the  lure  of  Christ  he  came 
to  Christ,  and  through  the  mediatorship  of  Christ 
he  came  to  God.  In  the  previous  course  of  his  life, 
he  had  realised  and  proved  the  watchword  (so  fre- 
quently quoted)  of  his  Confessions:  "fecisti  nos  ad 
te,  et  inquietum  est  cor  nostrum,  donee  requiescat  in 
te."  And  thenceforth  his  adjustment,  his  assurance 
of  eternal  salvation,  was  to  lie,  at  the  end  of  this  un- 
quiet course,  in  the  ever  fuller  and  more  explicit 
realisation  of  the  words  of  the  Psalm  which  were 
always  in  his  heart:  "Mihi  autem  adhaerere  dec 
bonum  est." 

God  had  created  us;  we  had  sinned  —  how? 
that  is  the  dark  question  which  Augustine  darkly 
answers.  God  by  grace  and  love  has  redeemed  us 
through  Christ;  he  has  thus  restored  us  to  com- 
munion with  himself.  The  sin  is  ours,  the  grace  is 
his.  The  sin  is  against  God,  the  redemption  is 
from  him  altogether,  and  without  him  we  are  help- 
less, in  sin  and  alienation  from  our  true  good,  from 
the  one  veritable  object  of  our  love  and  joy. 
Through  his  grace  and  love  we  are  restored,  and 
made  a  new  creature,  resting  in  God,  —  through 
Christ.  The  power  of  God  is  perfected  in  the  weak- 
ness of  human  nature.  If  nearly  all  of  this  is  Paul, 
it  is  again  made  new  and  living  with  something 
added,  with  something  omitted,  by  which  it  should 
remain  the  religion  of  the  Western  Christian  man. 


270  DELIVERANCE 

from  the  fourth  century,  through  the  Middle  Ages, 
and  through  the  Reformation. 

In  the  fulfilment  of  his  role  as  defender  of  the 
authority  of  the  Church,  as  vindicator  of  its  sacra- 
ments, and  as  the  reinspirer  and  manifold  developer 
of  its  doctrine,  Augustine  at  the  same  time  com- 
pleted his  own  adjustment,  strengthening  it  in  those 
parts  where  it  was  open  to  attack  either  by  opponents 
or  by  his  own  evolving  thought.  His  exposition  of 
Church  doctrine  was  always  a  part  of  his  living 
self,  and  followed  the  constructive  needs  of  his 
searching  and  desirous  genius.  The  authority  of 
the  Church  as  the  efficacious  and  only  channel  of 
grace  on  earth  was  attacked  by  the  Donatists ;  who 
would  also  make  the  efficacy  of  its  officially  admin- 
istered sacraments  dependent  on  the  faithfulness  of 
the  officiating  priest.  In  combating  this  sacer- 
dotally  untenable  position,  in  maintaining  that  the 
Church  was  the  sole  authority  in  matters  of  faith, 
and  the  one  door  to  salvation,  Augustine  responded 
to  his  own  need  of  such  an  authority,  and  to  the 
logical  requirements  of  his  ecclesiastic  nature.  For 
the  authority  of  the  Church  was  a  necessary  ele- 
ment of  his  personal  peace,  which  demanded  an 
authoritative  interpreter,  even  guarantor,  of  the 
Christian  Faith.  Had  not  the  authoritativeness  of 
Ambrose  held  him  ?  And  was  not  the  Church 
verily  the  entire  body  of  Christ  ?  templum  dei, 
hoc  est  totius  summae  trinitatis,  sancta  est  ecclesia. 


AUGUSTINE  271 

scilicet  universa  in  caelo  et  in  terra  {Enchiridion, 
56).  The  Church  is  one;  the  Church  is  holy;  its 
union  with  Christ,  its  possession  of  the  sanctifying 
virtue  of  the  Spirit,  is  not  lessened  by  the  sinfulness 
of  any  number  of  individuals  belonging  to  it.  It  is 
Catholic,  it  is  Apostolic,  it  is  infallible.  Outside  of 
it,  and  without  the  virtue  of  its  sacraments,  there  is 
no  union  with  God  through  Christ,  there  is  no 
redemption,  there  is  no  salvation. 

Augustine's  conceptions  of  grace  and  sin  were 
formed  before  the  Pelagian  controversy  opened; 
but  his  convictions  fully  unrolled  themselves  only 
as  he  defended  what  was  to  him  of  the  essence  of 
Christian  doctrine  and  of  his  own  adjustment  with 
God.  His  faith  —  the  Christian  Faith  —  centres  in 
God's  act,  that  is,  in  God's  grace  and  love;  and 
not  in  human  virtue,  or  the  building  up  of  char- 
acter through  the  action  of  a  virtuously  self-directing 
will;  which  was  the  essence  of  Pelagianism  as  well 
as  Stoicism.  And  according  to  Pelagius's  views, 
human  nature,  with  all  its  instincts,  was  essentially 
capable  of  good  —  not  essentially  corrupted  through 
the  inheritance  of  Adam's  sin. 

Augustine's  human  and  religious  experience  had 
proved  for  him  the  falsity  of  this.  He  had  found 
his  nature  corrupt  in  its  concupiscence,  and  his 
desires  warring  against  the  law  of  God.  Not  any 
virtue  of  his,  not  even  his  own  striving,  nor  any 
effective   energy  of  his   floundering  will,   but  the 


272  DELIVERANCE 

freely  given  grace  of  God  through  Christ,  had  an- 
nulled his  sinfulness  and  made  him  a  new  creature. 
First  came  grace,  prevenient  grace,  acting  in  accord- 
ance with  God's  predestinating  purpose  of  salvation 
for  those  who  are  to  be  called.  Its  action  creates 
the  will  to  believe  —  the  velle  credere  —  in  those 
who  are  "called  according  to  the  purpose";  where- 
upon with  them  it  becomes  cooperating  grace.  Thus 
faith  is  of  grace,  God's  gift.  It  begins  with  sheer 
acceptance,  proceeds  through  trustful  obedience, 
advancing  in  the  perception  of  God,  and  works  in 
enlightenment  and  love.  The  visible  and  necessary 
means  of  the  annulment  of  original  sin  and  of  sins 
previously  committed  is  the  Church's  sacrament  of 
baptism.  Thereupon  the  Holy  Spirit  sheds  love  in 
the  heart,  in  place  of  lust,  and  the  grace  of  God 
works  itself  out  in  the  man's  love  and  corresponding 
acts,  until  he  realises  his  justification  by  faith,  and 
his  salvation  in  the  love  of  God.  Through  grace 
and  through  its  sacramental  means,  man  has  thus 
been  delivered  from  a  state  of  sin,  in  which  from 
lack  of  God  and  lack  of  goodness  he  could  not 
abstain  from  sinning  further  in  pride  and  con- 
cupiscence.^ 

Pride  and  lust  are  replaced,  through  Christ,  by 
humility  and  love.  By  means  of  the  exemplifi- 
cation of  the  grace  of  God  in  Christ,  the  human 

1  These  last  pages  are  somewhat  indebted  to  Harnack's  History 
of  Dogma. 


AUGUSTINE  273 

Christ  primarily,  Augusdne  reaches  on  to  the  love 
and  contemplation  of  God,  wherein  is  man's  sum- 
mum  bonum,  his  salvation  and  eternal  life.  "Faith, 
hope  and  love,  and  the  greatest  of  these  is  love ;  " 
it  is  clear  that  Augustine  has  worked  out  this  truth 
of  Christ  after  the  manner  of  Paul :  "  Nam  qui 
recte  amat,  procul  dubio  recte  credit  et  sperat " 
{Enchiridion^  117). 

In  and  through  Christ  had  come  the  power  and 
assurance  of  Augustine's  love  of  God,  so  that  he 
can  say,  "Not  with  doubt,  but  certitude.  Lord,  I 
love  thee.  Thou  hast  smitten  my  heart  with  thy 
Word,  and  I  have  loved  thee.  But  also  heaven  and 
earth  and  all  that  in  them  is,  lo,  from  all  sides 
they  tell  me  I  should  love  thee.  .  .  ."  "That 
is  the  happy  life,  —  beata  vita,  —  to  rejoice  con- 
cerning thee,  unto  thee,  and  for  thy  sake.  ..." 
"Give  me  thyself,  my  God,  restore  thyself  to  me. 
Lo,  I  love,  and  if  it  is  little,  I  would  love  more. 
I  cannot  tell  how  much  my  love  lacks  of  what 
is  enough,  that  my  life  should  run  to  thy  em- 
brace, nor  be  turned  aside,  before  it  is  hidden 
in  the  hiding  place  of  thy  countenance.  This 
much  I  know,  that  all  is  ill  with  me  aside  from 
thee,  not  only  without  but  within  me,  and  that 
all  my  plenty  which  is  not  my  God,  is  want."  ^ 
The  love  of  God  is  the  sanction,  the  proportionment, 
and  the  end  of  the  love  of  all  things  else.  "We 
1  Conf.  X,  6  and  22 ;  xiii,  8. 
T 


274  DELIVERANCE 

must  love  all  things  with  reference  to  God,  other- 
wise it  is  lust.  Inferior  creatures  are  to  be  used 
{utendum)  with  reference  to  God  {ad  Deum) ;  and 
our  fellows  are  to  be  enjoyed  (fruendum)  with  refer- 
ence to  God,  toward  God  ;  so  thyself;  not  in  thyself 
ought  thou  to  enjoy  {frui)  thyself,  but  in  him  who 
made  thee;  thus  also  shouldst  thou  enjoy  him 
whom  thou  lovest  as  thyself.  Therefore  let  us  enjoy 
ourselves  and  our  brothers  in  the  Lord  and  not  dare 
to  surrender  ourselves  unto  ourselves,  downwards  as 
it  were."  ^ 

The  Christian  summum  honum  is  eternal  life. 
The  soul's  love  of  God  shall  expand  in  knowledge, 
and  possess  the  peace  of  eternal  fruition.  This  is 
the  perfect  end,  the  peace  of  God,  wherein  God 
may  be  enjoyed  and  known  eternally.  In  this  life, 
our  proper  peace  is  through  faith,  a  pre-fruition  of 
the  eternal  life  which  shall  be  through  sight.  The 
peace  of  earth,  —  the  peace  of  the  body  and  the 
soul,  the  peace  of  men  with  each  other,  lies  in  con- 
cord and  the  mutual  order  of  obedience  —  here 
the  great  Roman  ecclesiastic  temper  speaks:  "the 
peace  of  the  state  is  the  orderly  concord  of  citizens 
in  commanding  and  obeying;  the  peace  of  the 
heavenly  city  is  the  most  ordered  and  concordant 
communion  in  the  fruition  of  God  and  of  each 
other  in  God"  {Civ.  Dei,  xix,  13). 

"God  shall  be  so  known  to  us  that  he  shall  be 
'  De  TrinitaUy  ix,  13. 


AUGUSTINE  27S 

seen  by  the  spirit  by  each  of  us  in  ourselves  and  in 
each  other,  and  shall  be  seen  in  himself,  in  the  new 
heaven  and  the  new  earth  and  in  every  creature 
which  shall  then  exist.  .  .  .  And  the  thoughts 
within  each  of  us  shall  be  manifest  to  the  others" 
(Civ.  Dei,  xxii,  29).  "What  other  end  is  ours  — 
what  other  peace,  what  other  adjustment,  what 
other  salvation  —  than  to  come  to  the  kingdom,  of 
which  there  is  no  end  ?"  A  fitting  closing  sentence 
for  Augustine's  greatest  work,  and  for  his  life. 


CHAPTER  XII 
The  Arrows  are  beyond  Thee 

AT  the  end,  what  can  we  think  or  say  of  the 
adjustments  of  these  great  men  ?  we  pigmies  ! 
we  little  hills  to  talk  of  mountains,  —  of  those  ele- 
mental beings  who  laid  out  the  paths  for  humanity 
to  stray  in,  or,  as  we  hope,  move  onward ;  who  gave 
clearest  voice  to  the  fears  which  have  oppressed, 
and  the  hopes  which  ever  since  have  lifted  men  to 
freedom  or  to  peace.  Only  a  sympathetic  and 
understanding  genius,  and  not  the  writer  of  this 
little  book,  might  haply  from  the  vantage  ground 
of  our  rising  modern  decades,  place  these  men, 
finally  analyse  their  temperaments,  their  feelings 
and  opinions,  fit  them  into  proper  categories  of 
partially  successful  effort,  give  each  his  station.  Or 
perchance  such  a  one  might  so  feel  the  mystery  of 
great  personality,  his  own  as  well  as  theirs,  that  he 
would  make  no  attempt  to  determine  their  posi- 
tions, their  universal  values,  the  possible  eternal 
verities  which  they  expressed.  '< 

Yet  though  we  cannot  plumb  their  depths,  and 
proportion  their  veritable  values  and  relationships. 
It  behooves  us,  for  our  own  discipline,  to  order  our 
thoughts  concerning  them  as  best  we  can.     This  is 

276 


THE  ARROWS  ARE  BEYOND  THEE    277 

less  to  place  those  somewhat  immovable  and  un- 
scalable beings,  than  to  range  ourselves  with 
respect  to  them. 

At  the  outset  it  is  easy  to  settle  our  minds  as  to 
their  tangible  influence  on  one  another;  since  we 
can  see  where  it  existed,  and  where  there  was  none. 
Between  ancient  Egypt  and  Mesopotamia,  little 
mediating  influence  appears ;  nor  has  it  been  shown 
with  certainty  that  early  currents  flowed  from 
Mesopotamia  to  China.  As  between  China  and 
India,  nothing,  save  certain  striking  resemblances, 
points  to  any  interchange  of  spirit  until  long  after 
the  epoch  of  Confucius  and  Lao  Tzu,  and  Gotama, 
their  approximate  contemporary.  Some  centuries 
elapsed  before  the  Buddha's  teachings,  considerably 
expanded  and  corrupted,  became  known  in  China. 
From  India,  toward  the  north  and  west,  no  strains 
of  Buddhism  or  of  Brahmanism  are  found  in  the 
religion  of  Zarathushtra.  Nor,  until  a  compara- 
tively late  period,  did  any  Zarathushtrian  or  Per- 
sian thought  affect  the  Jews;  though  the  influence 
of  Babylonia  upon  the  children  of  Abraham  is  sup- 
posed to  have  been  from  the  beginning. 

Again,  no  suggestion  from  China  or  India  or 
Persia  or  Israel  stirred  the  minds  of  the  Greeks,  so 
far  as  known,  before  the  age  of  Alexander.  After- 
wards, with  the  approach  of  the  Christian  era,  in- 
fluences fuse  together  through  the  Mediterranean 
world.     Hellenism    and  Judaism  affect  each  other 


278  DELIVERANCE 

in  the  way  of  alien  impact  and  some  interpenetra- 
tion,  each  carrying  to  this  hostile  conjunction  what- 
ever quasi-foreign  elements  it  had  previously 
absorbed.  Out  of  Judaism,  Christianity  arises; 
and  its  conquest  of  the  world  is  in  part  a  shaking 
off  of  paganism  from  its  indignant  feet,  and  in  part 
a  refashioning  of  itself  to  pagan  needs. 

Turning  from  the  question  of  traceable  influence 
between  them,  may  we  not  advantageously  proceed 
from  some  fundamental  human  sameness  ?  The 
impulse  of  life,  of  self-fulfilment,  was  strong  in  all 
of  them.  Each  was  impelled  to  seek  with  the  mind, 
or  gain  practically  through  character  and  temper, 
the  peaceful  freedom  of  thought  and  mood,  or  the 
fearlessness  of  thought  and  action,  making  a  suitable 
adjustment  with  humanity's  needs  and  limitations 
—  an  adjustment  which  should  ofi^er  the  best  ful- 
filment of  the  man,  the  fullest  actualisation  of  his 
powers  and  capacities.  It  may  be  that  the  respon- 
sive action,  the  universal  fact  of  responsive  action 
to  this  common  human  impulse,  represents  to  our 
minds  a  common  human  validity  and  truth. 

This  much  at  least  we  may  recognise  and  admit 
as  a  universal  element,  since  we  find  it  in  ourselves  : 
"The  fiend  that  man  harries  is  [still!]  love  of  the 
best;"  —  not  the  fiend,  really,  but,  as  was  meant, 
the  god,  or  human  life  in  its  progress.  This  still 
drives  man  on,  not  to  his  perdition,  but  to  a  more 
perfect  peace,  and  to  a  freedom,  as  he  hopes,  ever 


THE  ARROWS  ARE  BEYOND  THEE    279 

enlarging.  Our  need  of  the  best,  and  aspiration  to 
win  it,  is  a  living  and  impelling  truth  with  us,  as  it 
was  with  them.  This,  whatever  else  was  valid, 
presents  itself  to  us  as  the  truth  running  through 
all  the  adjustments,  the  attained  freedoms,  of 
these  ancient  men.  This  primal  verity  lies  first  in 
the  need  of  the  endeavour  for  the  end  of  happiness 
and  peace.  It  lies  next  in  the  endeavour  itself. 
Who  can  say  but  that  each  great  man,  even  in  this 
endeavour,  may  have  builded  better  than  he  knew, 
have  won  his  good,  reached  his  peace,  and  gained 
perhaps  the  final  truth  for  man  ?  For  ourselves, 
we  have  found  no  single  answer  to  life's  problem 
other  than  life  itself,  its  need-inspired,  forward- 
driving  struggle,  wherein  endeavour  is  attainment 
and  the  path  is  the  goal.  And  yet  with  these  an- 
cient seers,  as  with  our  weakly  faltering  selves,  the 
tensest  fibre  of  the  endeavour  which  is  attainment, 
is  the  accompanying  vision  of  a  more  absolute 
attainment  beyond  the  sheer  endeavour,  —  the  hope 
for  some  of  them  and  some  of  us  of  a  divine  and 
eternal  verity  of  attainment,  standing  as  the  clifF 
upon  which  the  waves  of  our  endeavour  beat. 

So  we  think  of  these  men  in  human  generalities, 
which  include  both  them  and  us;  and  next  may 
think  of  them  in  generalities  which  contrast  them 
with  ourselves.  They,  at  least,  harmonised,  even 
brought  to  unity,  the  different  factors  of  their  ad- 
justments.    Their   thinking,    and    still    more    evi- 


28o  DELIVERANCE 

dently  their  feeling,  was  a  reflex  of  their  experience. 
Their  thought  had  to  do  with  Hfe,  with  its  ultimate 
problems.  Their  intuitions  and  their  reasoned 
knowledge,  working  together,  kept  their  convictions 
whole,  kept  their  lives  at  one,  and  themselves  wholly 
possessed  of  themselves. 

This  self-possession  and  unity  of  life  would  seem 
to  have  sprung  from  a  singleness  of  spiritual  founda- 
tion. With  Confucius,  the  Way  of  Heaven  made 
at  once  his  basic  intellectual  conception  and  his 
supreme  devotion.  Lao  Tzu*s  and  Chuang  Tzu's  con- 
victions were  all  involved  in  their  conception  of  the 
Tao.  The  mind  and  the  resolve  of  Yajnavalkya 
turn  to  Brahma,  a  finished  dialectic  creation.  And 
with  the  Buddha,  the  whole  current  of  his  being 
sets  toward  his  goal  of  release  from  suffering,  a  goal 
to  be  attained  through  dialectic  and  resolve,  and 
representing  a  harmony  of  reason  and  emotional 
ardour  difficult  for  us  to  conceive.  The  intuitions 
of  the  Greek  philosophers  were  likewise  in  accord 
with  their  reason.  Every  fine  concept  of  Plato's 
mind  was  also  a  desire  of  his  soul,  and  he  brought 
his  desires  together  in  a  rejoicing  unison  within  the 
closure  of  his  concept  of  God  and  the  idea  of  the 
good. 

Passing  to  almost  opposite  modes  of  adjustment, 
we  are  again  convinced  that  Zarathushtra's  devotion 
to  Ahura  Mazda  corresponded  with  his  reason  and 
the   best   conceptions   of  his   mind.     Likewise,   no 


THE  ARROWS  ARE  BEYOND  THEE    281 

need  to  say  that  the  devotion  of  the  Hebrew  prophets 
to  Yahweh  was  very  part  of  their  expanding  thoughts 
of  Yahweh*s  righteousness  and  the  compass  of  his 
function  in  the  world.  So  Paul,  the  last  Jewish 
and  first  Christian  prophet,  and  so  Augustine, 
finally,  brought  his  mind's  conceptions  to  accord 
with  the  resistless  devotion  of  his  soul. 

Whatever  the  forms  of  their  adjustment,  these 
men  possessed  themselves  in  the  accord  between 
their  intellectual  convictions  and  heartfelt  devotions, 
—  one  reason  why  they  have  proved  satisfying  to  so 
many  millions.  The  long  lapse  of  time,  which  limits 
survivals  and  sifts  the  big  out  of  the  confusion  of 
the  little,  presents  them  to  us  as  concrete  and 
definite  and  simple.  And  we  are  still  their  children, 
we  the  so-called  modern  nations  of  the  earth,  fol- 
lowing, as  it  were  respectively,  our  great  forbears. 
How  long  ago  the  nations  digged  the  pits  in  which 
they  were  to  lie  !  Not  so  long,  of  course,  if  we  com- 
pare the  lapse  of  previous  time,  supposedly  human, 
but  long  enough  when  measured  by  events.  China 
is  still  rooted  in  the  Confucian  pit  and  the  morass 
of  Taoism  —  nay,  perhaps,  in  these  opposite  phases 
of  her  temperament.  It  were  better  to  speak  of 
her  as  standing  on  the  attainment  of  Confucius 
and  the  considerations  of  Lao  Tzu.  So  India  might 
still  stand  in  contemplation,  fixed  on  her  somewhat 
slippery  Absolute.  If  Buddhism  has  gone  forth 
from  her  borders,  its  spirit  still  lives  in  its  first  home. 


282  DELIVERANCE 

while  its  corrupted  or  expanded  teachings  fill  so 
much  of  eastern  Asia.  For  us,  we  likewise  are  sons 
of  the  Hebrew  prophets,  and  let  us  hope,  the  chil- 
dren of  Jesus,  —  even  still  many  of  us  children  of 
Paul  and  Augustine.  And  are  we  not  as  well  the 
sons  of  the  Greeks  ? 

These  men  have  passed  on  — 

**  Leaving  great  verse  unto  a  little  clan." 

Yet  they  were  as  the  mustard  seed,  which  should 
become  a  mighty  tree,  with  generations  upon  gen- 
erations of  fowls  lodging  in  its  branches.  Did  they 
not  excel  in  deep  enthusiastic  well-being  ?  reaching 
their  various  adjustments  with  such  assurance  that 
acquiescence  on  their  part  became  cordial  accept- 
ance, even  a  passionate  acceptance  of  what  life,  or 
the  universal  ways,  held  for  them,  or  God  lovingly 
bestowed  ? 

Modern  thought  has  expanded  the  manifold  of 
life's  mysteriousness.  Perceiving  its  exhaustless 
mysteries  at  so  many  more  points  than  pricked 
these  ancients,  men  no  longer  can  attain  to  such 
clean  and  concrete  adjustments,  with  such  well- 
hemmed  edges.  Which  may  be  quite  as  it  should 
be,  in  the  broadening  ways  of  human  progress. 

Before  trying  at  last  to  fit  our  categories  of  dis- 
crimination to  those  men,  we  recall  how  thoughtful 
were  their  adjustments,  even  those  which  rested 
directly  on  heroic  mood.     It  may  also  be  said  that 


THE  ARROWS  ARE  BEYOND  THEE    283 

with  none  of  them  did  the  main  feature  of  his 
scheme  of  life  exclude  other  factors  of  assurance. 
With  the  most  self-reliant,  there  is  some  looking 
to  a  power  not  themselves,  perhaps  for  aid,  at  all 
events  with  a  respectful  taking  of  that  power  into 
account.  While  those  who  throw  themselves  on 
God,  like  Paul  or  Augustine,  know  that  their  own 
efforts  also  are  needed  to  maintain  a  conduct  ac- 
cording with  their  faith.  "Not  I,  but  the  grace  of 
God,  —  not  I,  but  the  spirit  of  Christ  within  me," 
—  however  whole-souledly  Paul  or  Augustine  might 
trust  in  God,  and  accept  his  spirit  to  the  disposses- 
sion and  replacement  of  their  former  selves,  each 
knew  the  strenuousness  of  the  endeavour  required 
even  to  keep  himself  a  cleanly  vessel  of  God's  grace. 

Again  disclaiming  the  ability  to,  place  these  men 
according  to  their  actual  and  lasting  values,  we  must 
try  to  distinguish,  and  order  our  own  thinking  in 
regard  to  them.  We  must  perforce  use  categories 
sounding  in  our  own  conceptions  of  the  kinds  of 
life  which  men  may  lead  with  serious  approval. 
If  those  ancients  would  not  have  recognised  our 
categories,  as  applied  to  them,  they,  nevertheless, 
have  been  the  source  from  which  our  constructive 
thoughts  largely  have  been  taken. 

Asia  —  the  East  —  inclines  to  vagueness,  and  also 
holds  less  firmly  or  less  passionately  than  the  West  to 
human  personality,  and  to  the  demands  and  full  de- 
velopment of  the  individual.     Confucius  was  a  tre- 


284  DELIVERANCE 

mendous  person  —  Chinese  tradition  does  not  err  in 
making  him  nine  feet  high.  He  was  a  very  great  social 
and  political  organiser.  He  would  set  his  people,  as  he 
had  fixed  himself,  within  a  beneficent  web  of  rites  and 
ceremonies,  formative  of  character,  constructive  and 
preservative  of  the  State.  It  was  a  scheme  follow- 
ing the  Way  of  Heaven,  to  which  men  must  conform 
with  unremitting  care.  This  made  Confucius's  ad- 
justment. While  the  detail  was  a  meticulous  web, 
the  unifying  principle,  the  norm  of  human  life, 
was  vague  and  impersonal.  It  could  utter  no  com- 
mands, but  could  only  exemplify  itself  and  its  ways 
as  the  standard  of  conduct.  Lao  Tzu,  Chuang  Tzu, 
also  looking  to  the  Way,  found  therein  quite  other 
exemplification  —  found  therein  the  opposite  of  any 
mandate  of  action,  and  no  inducement  to  painstaking 
and  minute  observance.  Contemplation  of  the  Tao 
—  the  Eternal  Way,  the  All,  the  Absolute,  the  What- 
not —  in  its  endless  construction  and  undoing,  was 
their  adjustment.  Their  contemplative  acquies- 
cence conformed  to  the  laisser-aller  of  the  Abso- 
lute; and  naturally  with  no  obstinate  retention  of 
the  individuality  of  each  temporary  acquiescing 
human  form.  As  inaction  is  vaguer  than  action,  so 
Taoism  is  vaguer,  even  in  its  principles,  than  Con- 
fucianism. 

In  India  the  human  adjustment  is  not  merely 
careless  of  the  individual;  it  has  ensconced  itself  in 
detestation  of  concrete,  pestilentially  changing,  in- 


THE  ARROWS  ARE  BEYOND  THEE    285 

dividuality :  its  end,  its  attainment,  lies  in  the  final 
elimination  of  that.  So  with  Brahmanism  in  its 
affirmation  of  the  Absolute;  so  with  Buddhism  in 
its  denial  of  the  same. 

A  change  indeed  to  reach  the  land  of  Zarathushtra, 
the  fighting  ally  of  his  righteous  warring  God.  No 
acquiescence  here,  no  negative  adjustment;  but 
victory  over  evil  foes,  and  the  reward  of  life  there- 
after. Ahura  is  somewhat  less  clearly  conceived 
than  Yahweh  —  who  also  "teacheth  my  hands  to 
war  and  my  fingers  to  fight."  Of  all  celestial  char- 
acters, Yahweh  is  drawn  with  most  trenchant  line 
—  a  tremendous  dramatis  persona.  If  we  have  not 
seen  his  form,  we  have  heard  his  voice,  and  through 
unmistakable  utterances  have  been  taught  his  will, 
and  with  what  blows  from  his  rod  have  been  driven 
to  do  it !  —  his  rod  of  punishment,  his  rod  of  love, 
his  rod  of  promise  !  Yahweh  was  an  individual !  a 
personality  1  In  obeying  him,  in  following  his  ways, 
the  Jew  developed  his  individuality,  or,  if  one  will, 
the  individuality  of  that  most  individual  race. 

The  Greek  gods  possessed  a  full  store  of  human 
waywardness.  They  are  revealed  through  poetry. 
The  Greek  did  not  develop  his  character  from  con- 
scious obedience  to  them ;  but  quite  consciously  out 
of  his  own  strength  and  reason,  and  out  of  the 
sword-play  and  compromise  of  the  energies  of  his 
desires.  Nor  did  the  Roman  draw  motives  of  de- 
velopment from  his  gods;    rather,  before  as  well  as 


286  DELIVERANCE 

after  he  had  eaten  of  the  Greek  tree  of  knowledge, 
he  evolved  himself  by  virtue  of  his  own  tenacity. 

Christianity  —  Jesus,  Paul,  Augustine.  Were  they 
not  of  the  heritage  of  Israel  ?  and  Augustine,  per- 
haps Paul,  of  the  heritage  of  Greece  and  Rome  as 
well  ?  It  may  be  that  from  Christianity  came  the 
final  building  up  of  individuality  for  the  ancient 
world.  Assuredly  there  came  from  it,  both  for  that 
world  and  our  own,  the  final  adjustment  of  the  in- 
dividual with  God's  power  and  love,  in  which  he, 
the  individual  Christian,  was  saved  and  completed 
and  fulfilled.  He  who  giveth  his  life,  shall  save 
and  redeem  and  fulfil  himself:  bread  thrown  upon 
the  waters,  returning  after  many  days  as  the  new 
bread  of  life.  The  characters  of  Christians  differed ; 
in  various  ways  they  gained  the  peace  and  profitable 
freedom  of  their  great  adjustment,  through  grace 
freeing  their  spirits  in  the  truth  that  maketh  free, 
and  in  perfect  accord  with  almighty  power,  fulfilling 
their  lives  to  all  eternity  in  the  love  of  God. 

Each  of  these  marked  adjustments  of  the  an- 
cient world  held  elements  belonging  to  the  rest. 
One  may  observe  that  in  their  sequence  and  suc- 
cession they  tend  to  change  and  merge  into  each 
other.  Their  protagonists,  ranged  according  to  the 
attitude  of  each  toward  his  individual  destiny,  will 
fall  into  two  loose-bordered  groups  :  contemplators, 
and  those  moved  by  a  closer  personal  purpose.  The 
contemplator  appears  to  stand  outside  his  destiny, 


THE  ARROWS  ARE  BEYOND  THEE    287 

and  to  contemplate  it  or  something  else.  In  the 
other  group,  the  man  and  his  happiness,  his  peace 
and  freedom,  are  incorporate  in  his  destiny,  hang 
upon  it :  he  moves  and  has  his  being  in  the  thought 
of  his  fortunes  upon  earth  or  his  lot  thereafter. 

In  some  way,  the  Contemplators  find  their  peace 
and  freedom  in  considering  the  Universe,  or  in 
meditating  upon  their  natures  and  the  connection 
between  their  destinies  and  the  universal  order. 
They  may  think  or  dream  themselves  around  and 
above  the  processes  of  nature  and  necessity.  Thus 
they  become  the  equal  or  superior  of  what  they  can- 
not resist,  by  realising  its  infinitude  :  "  L'homme  n*est 
qu'un  roseau,  le  plus  faible  de  la  nature,  mais  c'est  un 
roseau  pensant !  "  Lao  Tzu  is  here,  and  his  disciple 
Chuang  Tzu.  They  realise  the  universe,  and  their 
own  natures  as  held  within  its  all-embracing  ways. 
They  love  its  infinite  range,  and  bathe  in  the  amplitude 
of  the  mystery  of  life.  Potent  dreamers  they,  who 
could  dream  far  out  beyond  the  reach  of  their  individ- 
ual lot,  which  they  held  as  lightly  as  it  held  them. 

The  Brahmans  of  India  did  not  dream  as  suavely, 
nor  with  equal  imagination ;  but  they  reasoned  with 
insistent  metaphysical  acuteness.  They  did  not  so 
serenely  rest  above  their  personal  destinies. 
Chuang  Tzu,  knowing  that  his  being  would  be 
scattered  to  its  elements,  smiled  at  the  prospect. 
The  Brahmans  were  pricked  by  the  need  to  think 
out  their   release.     Their   thought   was   not   sheer 


288  DELIVERANCE 

contemplation,  but  was  goaded  by  longing  for  free- 
dom from  desire,  and  for  freedom  from  the  torment- 
ing impermanence  of  individuality.  As  for  Gotama, 
the  Buddha,  the  motive  of  his  arduous  thinking 
appears  the  same.  But  the  desire  to  point  out  to 
others  the  path  to  salvation  lifted  his  personal  ad- 
justment to  Saviourhood,  and  made  him  the  re- 
vealer  of  a  universal  refuge;  in  other  words,  the 
founder  of  a  religion. 

From  the  East  to  the  West,  the  temper  changes, 
and  contemplators  may  be  called  more  fitly  inves- 
tigators. The  Greek  vita  contemplativa  becomes  a 
happy  devotion  to  the  quest  of  knowledge.  At 
first  the  philosophers  are  busier  investigating  the 
world  about  them  than  in  considering  their  place  in 
it,  or  their  inner  nature  and  particular  destiny. 
But,  in  time,  the  processes  of  thought  and  contem- 
plation come  homing  back  to  the  thinker.  There- 
upon the  western  tenacity  of  individuality  impresses 
itself  on  the  intellectual  energy  which  is  occupied 
with  investigation,  and  the  thinker  can  no  longer 
stand  aloof  from  interest  in  his  present  welfare  and 
future  destiny.  The  line  of  early  Greek  thinkers 
passes  on  to  Democritus,  to  Socrates,  to  Plato ;  and 
the  search  for  truth  is  impressed  forever  with 
eudaimonism,  that  is  to  say,  with  the  compelling 
sense  of  the  determining  significance  and  importance 
of  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  the  individual 
thinker.     It  was  Plato  who  enriched  the  contem- 


THE  ARROWS  ARE  BEYOND  THEE    289 

plative  adjustment  with  that  blessed  mood  arising 
from  beautiful  conceptions  realised  as  part  of  the 
soul  of  man  and  its  perfecting.  Then  through  the 
belief,  uplifted  and  glorified  by  him,  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  ennobled  soul,  he  made  absolute  the 
central  value  of  the  individual  man  and  his  destiny. 
This  was  his  crowning  contribution  to  spiritual  free- 
dom. After  him,  Aristotle  gathered  all  knowledge 
as  the  basis  and  content  of  his  intellectual  satis- 
faction. With  less  temperamental  geniality  and 
colder  mentality  than  Plato,  he  fixed  the  apex  of  his 
happiness  in  the  contemplation  of  unmoved  but  all- 
moving  causes. 

So  Plato  linked  the  contemplative  adjustment  to 
the  blessedness  of  the  immortal  soul.  His  golden 
joinder  of  intellectuality  and  hope  looked  with  a 
lover's  eyes  to  God  —  such  lover's  eyes  becoming 
rather  steely  gray  with  Aristotle.  Succeeding  to  the 
Aristotelian  universality  of  intellectual  interest, 
philosophy,  in  Stoicism,  ceased  to  be  worthy  of  the 
name,  so  narrowly  did  it  restrict  its  considerations 
to  that  which  made  for  man's  peace  of  mind.  Stoi- 
cism began  as  an  adjustment  of  the  self-reliant  soul, 
even  as  did  Epicureanism.  In  the  course  of  years, 
the  self-reliance  staled;  Epicureanism  had  nothing 
to  turn  to,  while  Stoicism,  through  its  more  ener- 
getic conception  of  the  Divine,  became  prayerful  — 
the  Stoic  began  to  look  beyond  himself  for  the 
complete  assurance  of  his  peace, 
u 


290  DELIVERANCE 

Thus  the  vita  contemplativa,  having  centred  its 
interest  in  the  contemplator's  welfare  and  destiny, 
found  that  it  could  not  insure  the  one  or  fulfil  the 
other.  Incidentally  the  self-reliant  intellect  has 
proved  itself  limited,  terrestrial,  and  unable  to  satisfy  a 
nature  which  is  conscious  of  having  to  do  with  eternity. 
As  a  means  of  human  adjustment  and  deliverance, 
philosophic  thought  has  broken  down.  For  aid  and 
comfort,  for  peace  and  assurance,  for  blessedness,  in 
fine,  the  thinker  turns  to  God.  The  freedom  and 
assurance  of  his  life  have  assumed  the  mode  and  form 
of  salvation. 

Clearly  we  have  passed  from  the  group  who  stand 
above  their  destinies,  content  to  contemplate  the 
universe,  and  themselves  as  elements  of  its  resistless 
processes.  We  are  in  the  company  of  those  whose 
adjustment  with  life  is  vitally  incorporate  in  the 
destiny  of  their  individual  selves.  Moreover,  we 
have  become,  let  us  hope  fruitfully,  entangled  with 
another  principle  in  the  ordering  of  our  adjustments. 
Those  men  who  stood  above  their  destinies,  in  dis- 
interested contemplation  of  the  universe,  or  con- 
tent with  the  quest  of  knowledge,  were  utterly  self- 
reliant,  even  unconsciously  so :  for  the  height  of 
self-reliance  is  to  be  unconscious  of  relying  on  one- 
self and  not  upon  another.  As  the  former  group  of 
adjustments  pass  into  those  which  are  insistent  on 
the  welfare  of  the  protagonist,  they  pass  through 
a  stage  of  self-reliance  which  has  become  self-con- 


THE  ARROWS  ARE  BEYOND  THEE    291 

scious;  and  then  into  the  stage  where  conscious 
self-reliance  gives  way  to  a  conscious  lack  of  it,  and 
at  last  becomes  a  yearning  for  divine  salvation. 

Hereupon,  however,  a  complementary  and  final 
element  enters ;  the  love  of  that  Power  upon  which 
the  man  relies  to  safeguard  and  complete  his  destiny. 
This  may  become  absorbing  devotion,  an  energy 
which  carries  the  man  again  beyond  himself,  and 
once  more  may  Hft  him  above  personal  anxiety.  In 
the  great  exemplars  of  this  devotion  —  indeed  in 
the  Great  Exemplar  —  trust  in  God,  communion 
with  Him,  is  perfect;  while  solicitude  as  to  salva- 
tion is  lost  in  consecration  to  God's  saving  purposes. 
In  this  way,  the  obedient  and  co-operating  zeal  of 
the  Servant  in  Isaiah  is  completed  in  the  sonship  of 
Jesus:  "Surely  Yahweh  will  do  nothing,  but  he 
reveals  his  secret  to  his  servants  the  prophets." 
With  more  absolute  union,  "the  Father  loveth  the 
Son,  and  hath  given  all  things  into  his  hand,"  and 
"the  Son  can  do  nothing  of  himself,  but  what  he 
seeth  the  Father  doing." 

In  Paul,  the  need  of  salvation  has  become  again 
a  driving  energy,  while  devotion  to  the  salvation  of 
his  fellows,  his  working  unison  with  the  grace  of 
God,  likewise  consumes  him.  He  symbolises  the 
varying  moods  of  Christians  after  him,  whose  need 
of  salvation  is  compelling.  Augustine  is  in  this  cate- 
gory. With  Paul  and  Augustine,  however,  and 
countless  other  Christians,  the  sense  of  God  and  of 


292  DELIVERANCE 

the  Saviour's  deed  and  constant  function,  leads  to  a 
grateful  surrender  of  the  saved  one  to  Him  who  has 
saved  him  —  a  surrender  offered  in  confidence  and 
love,  if  not  in  self-abandonment. 

Who  shall  say  whether  the  pendulum  might  not 
thus  swing  back  to  an  abandonment  of  human  indi- 
viduality ?  The  course  taken  by  the  development 
of  personality  in  Western  Asia  and  Eastern  Europe 
had  led  to  the  need  which  only  Christianity  satisfied. 
The  need  was  a  religious  need ;  a  religious  adjust- 
ment was  required.  Through  the  near  preceding 
centuries,  the  human  personality  had  become  acutely 
conscious  of  itself,  and  of  its  cardinal  importance. 
It  had  also  arrived  at  the  realisation  that  it  could 
not  save  and  fulfil  itself,  and  of  itself  attain  its 
rightful  destiny.  Christianity  offered  this  salvation 
and  fulfilment,  offered  them  through  the  agency  of 
divine  and  human  personality,  that  of  God  the 
Father  and  Christ.  The  Gospel  was  a  reaching  out 
of  the  fulness  of  divine  personality  to  the  need  of 
human  personality,  —  and  not  only  a  reaching  out 
in  power  but  an  intimate  bestowal  of  comfort,  with 
love  close  and  personal.  Such  a  divine  giving  safe- 
guarded and  assured  the  recipient  in  the  eternal  love 
and  power  of  God.  His  most  unqualified  surrender 
of  himself  could  be  only  unto  such  safekeeping. 
The  conception  of  salvation  is  thus  completed  in  the 
answer  of  the  human  love  to  the  divine ;  the  Chris- 
tian fulfils  himself  in  the  love  of  God.     Herein,  as 


THE  ARROWS  ARE  BEYOND  THEE  293 

a   religious    adjustment,    Christianity   would    seem 
final. 

Another  question  of  import  as  to  the  Gospel's 
finality  was  to  arise  from  the  intellectual  and  in- 
quisitive side  of  human  nature,  and  keep  itself  in- 
sistent. How  did  the  Gospel  bear  upon  the  growth 
and  expansion  of  the  human  mind  through  knowl- 
edge ?  Was  it  antagonistic  or  favourable  ?  relevant 
or  irrelevant  ?  The  varying  answers  which  have 
been  given  to  this  question,  or  have  somehow  been 
lived  out,  extend  through  the  centuries  called  by  the 
Christian  name.  The  age  which  first  received  the 
Gospel  did  not  care  supremely  for  knowledge.  When 
Augustine  declared  that  he  would  know  God  and 
the  soul,  and  these  alone,  he  uttered  the  intensest 
cravings  of  his  nature,  which  were  not  for  knowledge. 
With  other  men  in  other  times,  God  and  the  soul 
might  include  the  universe  of  God-created  things. 

In  its  acceptance,  or  in  its  application  to  life,  the 
Gospel  could  be  narrowed  or  broadened.  It  was 
adapted  to  the  humblest  human  want,  and  yet 
sufficient  for  the  soul  uplifted  to  its  heights  of  love 
and  spiritual  consecration.  It  did  not  speak  directly 
to  the  inquisitive  mind,  not  being  a  method  of  in- 
tellectual living.  But  the  mind  of  man,  —  the  full 
compass  of  his  intellectual  cravings  and  faculties, 
—  is  from  God.  If  the  Gospel  was  salvation,  was 
it  not  to  be  salvation  for  the  whole  man  ?  Could 
it  not  "save"  the  uttermost  reaches  of  his  mind, 


294  DELIVERANCE 

as  well  as  the  purest  impulses  of  his  love  ?  How 
should  it  hamper  the  humanity  which  it  had  come 
to  save  eternally  ? 

And  still  the  human  personality  gives  one  pause. 
It  seems  so  necessarily  a  passing  phase,  not  to  be 
imagined  as  lasting  forever,  or  as  the  vehicle  of  an 
eternal  here  and  now.  Think  of  eternity  and  of 
thyself,  O  man !  Do  the  two  fit  each  other  ? 
The  body  is  impermanent.  The  mind  also  unfolds 
with  the  human  years,  changing  and  finite.  Whether 
embodied  or  disembodied,  is  it  suited  for  eternity  ? 
Would  it  think  its  thoughts,  or  love  its  loves,  for- 
ever ?  Must  not  its  finitude  tire  ?  Could  it  love 
even  God,  and  think  on  Him  and  the  universe, 
eternally?  The  last  is  perhaps  the  most  tolerable 
idea  that  can  be  linked  with  an  enduring  finite  per- 
sonality. Yet  Christian  rapture  has  tended  to  pass 
on,  through  this  conception,  as  it  were ;  has  sought 
to  lose  itself  in  God,  to  become  in  and  of  Him. 
Musing  saints  have  anticipated  deliverance  from 
themselves.  Only  absorption  in  Deity  contents 
them.  Through  His  eyes  only  would  they  see; 
only  through  His  heart  would  they  love.  Less 
rapturous,  more  analytic,  tempers  also  may  conclude 
that  only  infinite  life  is  suited  to  eternity :  not  man, 
but  God. 


^HE  following  pages  contain   advertisements  of 
Macmillan  books  by  the  same  author. 


BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

THE  MEDIAEVAL  MIND 

A  HISTORY  OF  THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  THOUGHT  AND 
EMOTION   IN   THE   MIDDLE  AGES 

SECOND  EDITION,  REVISED  AND  RESET  THROUGHOUT 

In  two  8vo  volumes^  $^.00  net^  per  set ;  carriage  extra 

This  important  work  sets  forth  directly  from  the  mediaeval  writings  the 
emotional  and  intellectual  growth  of  that  long  period  which  the  educated 
world  no  longer  regards  as  stagnant  or  altogether  unenlightened. 

The  antique  and  patristic  origins  of  the  mediaeval  development  are  first 
considered,  and  then  the  modes  in  which  the  ancient  matter  was  transmitted 
to  the  early  mediaeval  periods  whose  callow  mental  processes  are  next  exem- 
plified and  analyzed. 

Thereupon  the  work  proceeds  to  its  main  theme,  the  presentation  of  the 
variegated  intellectual  and  emotional  phenomena  as  shown  in  the  literature, 
philosophy,  and  illustrated  phases  of  life  of  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  cen- 
turies. So  as  far  as  is  consistent  with  intelligent  exposition  and  proper  nar- 
rative, the  Middle  Ages  are  made  to  speak  for  themselves  in  the  words  of 
their  representative  men  and  women.  This  work,  the  result  of  many  years  of 
labor,  is  an  attractive  and  accurate  presentation  of  a  period  too  often  repre- 
sented as  one  of  narrow-minded  clericalism  and  intellectual  stagnation. 

In  preparing  the  second  edition  the  book  has  been  carefully  reconsidered 
and  reset  throughout,  and  many  statements  have  been  changed  or  amplified. 
A  new  chapter  has  been  introduced  upon  the  Towns  and  Guilds  and  the 
Crusades,  regarded  as  phases  of  mediaeval  growth. 

"  The  erudition,  scholarship,  and  understanding  of  developmental  forces, 
commands  respect  and  admiration.  ...  It  may  safely  be  prophesied  that 
Mr.  Taylor  will  lead  many  into  new  cultural  paths.  His  work  should  be  an 
incentive  to  more  vital  study  of  the  past,  and  should  serve  to  draw  attention  to 
the  field  of  cultural  history  so  much  neglected  in  our  American  universities." 
—  The  Dial. 

"  The  author  of  this  masterly  work  is  evidently  not  only  an  eager,  untiring, 
and  exact  student,  but  also  a  thinker  and  a  poet.  Only  a  scholar-poet  could 
have  given  us  so  true  and  sympathetic  a  study.  So  clear  is  the  medium  of 
his  personality  that  through  it,  as  through  a  transparent  window,  there  streams 
the  vari-colored  light  of  those  far-off  centuries  without  diminution  or  distor- 
tion." —  Philosophical  Review. 

"None  will  question  its  high  qualities,  or  fail  to  be  grateful  to  the  author  for 
his  profound  and  sympathetic  study  of  the  Middle  Ages." —  The  Nation. 

"  He  chose  and  has  admirably  accomplished  a  difficult  task  ;  and  no  student 
of  things  mediaeval  can  safely  neglect  this  interpretation  of  the  *  Mediaeval 
Mind.' "  —  American  Historical  Revieiv. 

"  The  book  reveals  the  Middle  Ages  truthfully  with  their  own  individual 
aspects,  and  humanizes  them  by  bringing  out  what,  in  that  remote  period,  is  of 
common  and  universal  significance."  —  The  Bookman. 


THE    MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

Publishers  64-66  Fifth  Avenue  New  Tork 


ANCIENT  IDEALS 

A  Study  of  Intellectual  and  Spiritual  Growth  from  Early 
Times  to  the  Establishment  of  Christianity 

By  henry   OSBORN   TAYLOR,  Litt.D. 
NEW  EDITION 

Two  volumes,  cloth,  8vo,  $5.00  net;  carriage  extra 

This  work  by  the  author  of  "The  Mediaeval  Mind"  treats 
human  development  from  the  standpoint  of  the  ideals  of  the  differ- 
ent races  as  these  ideals  disclose  themselves  in  the  art  and  litera- 
ture, in  the  philosophy  and  religion,  and  in  the  conduct  and 
political  fortunes  of  each  race.  Mr.  Taylor  has  preserved  a  unity 
of  plan  in  setting  forth  the  part  taken  by  each  race  in  the  human 
drama.  He  has  made  clear  the  nature  of  the  contribution  made 
by  each  to  the  stages  of  human  growth  reached  before  the  Christian 
era ;  and  has  indicated  in  what  respects  these  contributions  be- 
came permanent  elements  of  humanity  and  thus  elements  of  its 
further  possibilities  —  possibilities  finding  in  Christianity  perfect 
conditions  for  final  realization. 

."The  American  people  are  giving  to  the  world  some  of  the  most 
thoughtful  and  balanced  studies  in  history  and  philosophy  now 
being  produced.  Mr.  Taylor's  work  is  an  admirable  example  of 
this  class  of  writings."  —  London  Spectator. 

"  A  book  which  stands  far  above  anything  else  of  the  kind  that 
we  have  seen.  It  needs  something  like  genius  to  give  an  account 
so  sympathetic  and  penetrating  of  religions  so  diverse ;  yet  the 
author  never  fails  to  leave  in  the  mind  a  perfectly  definite  picture 
of  each  system,  with  its  essential  characteristics  quite  distinct,  and 
illustrated  by  just  so  much  history  as  is  needed  to  make  the  picture 
living.  Again,  the  book  is  a  literary  work  in  a  sense  in  which  few 
histories  of  human  thought  are  Hterary  —  in  a  sense  in  which 
Froude's  *  Studies  in  Great  Subjects,'  or  Symonds's  '  Studies  in  the 
Greek  Poets,'  or  Pater's  *  Plato  and  Platonism '  are  literary  .  .  . 
A  book  of  intense  interest,  catholic  sympathy,  and  properly  balanced 
judgment."  —  Guardian, 

THE   MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

Publishers  64-66  Fifth  Avenue  New  Tork 


The  Classical  Heritage  of  the  Middle  Ages 

By  henry    OSBORN   TAYLOR 

Clothy  I2m0y  402  pages,  $1.7^  «^^>*  Postage  extra 


THIRD  EDITION 


The  subject  of  this  book  is  the  transition  from  the  Classical  to  the 
Mediaeval.  It  follows  the  changes  undergone  by  classic  thought,  let- 
ters, and  art,  on  their  way  to  form  part  of  the  intellectual  development 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  shows  how  pagan  tastes  and  ideals  gave  place 
to  the  ideals  of  Christianity  and  to  Christian  sentiments.  The  argu- 
ment reaches  backward  to  classic  Greece  and  Rome  and  forward  into 
the  Middle  Ages ;  but  the  discussion  centres  in  the  period  extending 
from  the  fourth  to  the  seventh  century.  This  period  was  strikingly 
transitional  in  Italy  and  the  western  provinces  of  the  Roman  Empire ; 
before  it  had  passed,  the  various  elements  of  classic  culture  had  as- 
sumed the  forms  in  which  they  were  to  make  part  of  the  intellectual 
life  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  Christianity  had  taken  on  a  mediaeval 
character. 

CONTENTS 

Chapter  I.  Introduction. 

Chapter  II.  The  Passing  of  the  Antique  Man. 

Chapter  III.  Phases  of  Pagan  Decadence. 

Chapter  IV.  The  Antique  Culture. 

Chapter  V.  Pagan  Elements  Christianized  in  Transmission. 

Chapter  VI.  Ideals  of  Knowledge,  Beauty,  Love. 

Chapter  VII.  Abandonment  of  Pagan  Principles  in  a  Christian  Sys- 
tem OF  Life. 

Chapter  VIII.  Christian  Prose. 

Chapter  IX.  Christian  Poetry. 

Chapter  X.  Christian  Art. 


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